Bound to Him
by georgesgurl117
Summary: At the behest of Lord Voldemort, Snape is forced to commit an act he finds most undesirable. While working to thwart the dark plot, he must find a way to live with himself and also atone for his actions to the one he hurt. WARNING - dark content!
1. Afternoon Interrupted

**Disclaimer: As far as I know, I am not J.K. Rowling - so if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

**A/N: This story follows the series through Order of the Phoenix, but is an alternate 6th year experience. Rated M for following chapters.  
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**As always - do be kind and review. The story won't progress if nobody cares enough. **

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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 1**

The day had begun as sunny and delightful as a mid-August morning could be. By late afternoon, however, the weather had made a drastic change. The dainty breeze that had so pleasantly tickled the leaves on the trees had vanished, leaving an inexplicably ominous calm in its stead. The temperature had spiked at least twenty degrees, and the humidity had quickly followed suit. Threatening dark clouds had begun to gather, concealing the summer sun and plunging the day into a foreboding shade of gray.

It was on this day that Hermione Granger found it necessary to escape the tension of her house and seek solace with her thoughts in the small, wooded park not far from her home. With the muggy heat of the day forcing all reasonable people to seek shelter in their air-conditioned houses, she had known she would have the place to herself.

As she lay back on the old wooden picnic table, watching the sky, she let her thoughts wander.

_How apropos_, she thought of the dark clouds forming above her. The world was growing darker – and her life was no exception. Sirius Black was dead, and Lord Voldemort had returned to power. The headlines in _the Daily Prophet_ that were delivered to her house weekly were depressing, if not downright disturbing. Even the muggle publications her parents subscribed to had made mention of strange disappearances and sinister happenings occurring throughout the country.

Liquid dripped down Hermione's cheek, and she casually wiped it away. She realized it was only her perspiration. The sky had yet to open up to release its moisture, and so far she managed to avoid shedding any tears.

There had been a close call earlier before she had sprinted out the garden door of her home and ran to her current location.

_Several minutes prior, Hermione had been called down from her room by her father. She had found him standing in the sitting room next to her mother, who was seated on the couch._

_She could tell they were both concerned – her father's look was most solemn while her mother had not stopped wringing her hands._

"_Hermione, darling," her father began. "There's something we feel we must discuss with you."_

_Hermione twisted her eyebrows in apprehension. Glancing down, she could see the most recent copy of _The Daily Prophet_ lying on the coffee table. _

Oh no_, she chided herself on her carelessness at not destroying immediately after reading it. She knew what was coming._

"_Miney, you know that we love you – and that we want to support you in everything." Her mother paused, evaluating her daughter's reaction. "You are a bright girl, and are more talented than we could have ever imagined. It's just that, lately, your father and I have been more than uneasy with –"_

"_With what?" Hermione interrupted. _

_Her father cleared his throat. "We don't think you should return to Hogwarts this year."_

"_Not return?" She had expected them to give a lecture on being cautious – she had not expected them to consider withdrawing her from school. A small part of her felt ambushed. "You can't be serious!"_

"_Don't be upset, dear," her mother cooed. "We just feel it's too dangerous for you to be there."_

"_No, no, no, no…." Hermione gestured with her hands as she paced back and forth across the room. "I can't stay here – I have to go back! I have to go to Hogwarts!"_

_Her father stepped forward, placing both hands on her shoulders in a comforting manner. "We only want to do what's best for you. Perhaps if things calm down in the world, you can go back next year."_

"_Next year," she whispered. _Next year. What's best for me?

_Several emotions flooded her body. Anger. Fear. Disappointment. Confusion. And yet – understanding and compassion for her parents. The mix made Hermione feel claustrophobic and she wrenched away from her father's grasp._

"_Hermione!" He called after her as she quickly retreated from the room._

"_I just need some air," she responded before bolting through the kitchen for the back door._

Hermione sighed as she stared into the impending storm. Her parents' concerns were certainly not without merit. Logically, it made sense that they would want to protect her from the dark forces invading the wizarding world, but she knew in her heart it would not be long before the Muggle world would be just as – if not more – dangerous. Her parents would be unlikely to understand this at the present moment.

She absolutely had to return to school. Hogwarts was undoubtedly the safest place for her. Her friends were there. Dumbledore was there. They would all protect her. Hermione was just considering how she would be able to convince her parents of this when something made her startle.

At the sound of crunching leaves, Hermione lurched up into a seated position. Her eyes darted everywhere it seemed, but she saw no intruder. She could not, however, shake the feeling that she was being watched.

"Who's there?" she demanded, cautiously stepping down from the table. "Show yourself!"

Silence met her command. Her heart was racing and she suddenly wished she had been carrying her wand.

_Not that I would use it without proper provocation, _she mused,_ but it would be comforting to have, none the less._

The wind had begun to pick up, and leaves swirled around her feet.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of movement out of the corner of her eye. When her gaze locked onto the cause of the crunching leaves, she let loose a large breath.

A small rabbit had hopped around one leg of the picnic bench.

"Oh, Merlin," she sighed, waiting for the adrenaline in her system to subside. When she could breathe normally, she started to laugh. She had been so jumpy lately; she had to remind herself that evil was not lurking behind every corner.

_Just most corners._ She thought as her smile faded into a grim expression.

Hermione checked her watch and figured it was high time she made her way home. She did not want her parents to worry any more than they already were.

She brushed off the wood splinters from the seat of her jean shorts and took a step away from the table. She stopped nearly immediately, however, at the occurrence of a strange rustling.

_That's not a bunny._ Hermione spun around where she stood. The trees all around her were violently waving in the wind. A large crack of thunder broke, and the sky got darker – if that was possible.

The gray clouds had since become charcoal colored, and Hermione froze as streaks of black smoke swirled down to the ground.

Her brain suddenly kicked on, and she turned to flee from the scene as two Death-eaters appeared in the clearing.

She had only managed to run a few yards before a spell cast from one of their wands immobilized her. Hermione fell to the ground as darkness settled around her.

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><p><strong>AN: Review, Review! I always accept suggestions and constructive criticism!**


	2. Dark Revelation

**Disclaimer: As far as I know, I am not J.K. Rowling - so if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

**A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed - Chancc, .Snape, Lottie Du Bois, HPFanGirl01. You are all awesome!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 2  
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Ten low chimes sounded, reverberating around the stone walls of the room as the clock struck the new hour.

Severus Snape sat in his leather armchair, reading an ancient, fraying tome by the firelight. He sighed slightly as he flipped the page nearly transparent with age, hoping he would not be summoned in the coming hours.

Voldemort had already demanded an audience with the Hogwarts Potions Master twice that week. The Dark Lord had been upset with Lucius Malfoy's failed attempt to obtain the prophecy at the Ministry, and was trying to make sure his next maneuvers were nothing short of successful. He had called upon Snape to reveal to him everything Dumbledore had done in preparation for the coming school year. Though Snape had known this was to be expected, he could not help but feel there were other underlying reasons that were being held from him.

Lord Voldemort had yet to divulge any of his current dark plots in front of him, and so Snape had nothing of value to share with the Hogwarts headmaster. Albus had been more than understanding in the situation, but still Snape felt as though he were disappointing the Order. Half of them distrusted him, anyway – but he cared little for what people thought of him. He was prepared to be hated, he was ready to die – such was the life of a spy.

Though Snape was anxious to uncover more pertinent information from the Death Eaters, he was both mentally and physically drained. On the evenings that he had not attended the Dark Lord's gatherings, he had been helping Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall in an exhaustive search of the castle for any traces of dark magic.

Snape felt his eyelids grow heavy, and he let the book flip closed in his lap. He closed his eyes gently and leaned his head against the back of the chair.

He was just about to let the waves of sleep crash over him when he felt the burning sensation in his arm.

"Curses and damnation," he muttered under his breath as he stared at the dark mark on his arm. Lord Voldemort was summoning him.

Snape quickly scribbled a note on a piece of charmed parchment, and gave his owl strict instructions to stop for no one but Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself. After sending his warning, Severus strode angrily out of his quarters to join the assembly.

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When Snape apparated at the destined meeting place, he found he was the last to arrive in the large, seemingly abandoned field.

_As per usual_, he grimaced. The other Death Eaters did not ever bother to hide their disapproval at his perpetual tardiness, but Severus had managed to beg off from any extra punishment from the Dark Lord by reminding him of the apparation ban whilst on Hogwarts grounds. Voldemort was most understanding of this limitation, though only after performing a legilimency spell and witnessing it for himself, of course.

"Ah, Severus!" Voldemort hissed from the center of the circle. He threw his hands in the air as a sign of welcome and moved towards the latest arrival.

"So kind of you to join us," a slimy voice murmured from beside him. "Better late than never, is that what the Muggles say?"

Severus turned his head to see Lucius Malfoy haughtily smirking, and he gave the blonde Death Eater a sardonic sneer in return.

By the time this unfriendly exchange had transpired, Voldemort was standing directly in front of the Potions Master. He clamped a cold, pale hand down on his shoulder, and grinned unexpectedly at Snape.

"So good to see you, Severus. I have much in store for you, my loyal friend."

"My Lord?" Snape raised his eyebrows in mild surprise as the snakelike man turned to the rest of the group. Voldemort rarely acknowledged his followers' great performances in front of the large assembly of Death Eaters – public humiliation in response to failures was much more common. The personal attention was worrisome to Snape. _Either he expects a great amount of service from me – or he is beginning to suspect something_.

"Everyone – please make our most honored guest feel welcome."

Voldemort then spoke to him over his shoulder. "Severus, if you would – accompany me to the altar."

_The altar?_ Snape pondered this as he followed behind the dark wizard. He did his best to hide his uncertainty as he found himself under the intense scrutiny of the others gathered. He even managed not to roll his eyes when Bellatrix LeStrange cackled maniacally as he passed by her. She could be so obnoxious – his head always throbbed after spending any length of time with the woman.

As he attempted not to scowl any more than ordinary, Voldemort suddenly whisked around to face him.

"Since you are the wizard of the hour, so to speak," he cooed, his nostrils flaring in pleasure, "I have the most delightful of surprises for you."

With that, Voldemort stepped aside and gestured to the middle of the circle. Snape's eyes followed the outstretched arm and his gaze came to rest on the stone altar. Whatever was on top of it was quite lumpy and was currently covered with a black sheet.

Something caused his heart to flutter disconcertedly, but Snape hid the sentiment from the prying eyes of the Death Eaters. Whatever was under there was something he did not wish to see, let alone possess. He knew he would likely have to prove himself to Voldemort in order to keep his true mission secret_. Yet again._

"My Lord?" he again questioned.

An evil smile erupted on Voldemort's face as he motioned Snape forward.

With one last glance to the pale, serpentine face, Severus swallowed deeply and cautiously stepped forward.

"Get on with it, Sevvy!" Bellatrix panted, her wand ready to remove the covering for herself.

"SILENCE!" Voldemort bellowed, pointing his wand in her direction.

Bellatrix immediately cowered to the ground, lowering her wand in the process. "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort then returned his attention to the man standing at the base of the stone altar.

Snape reached out, catching a corner of the satiny, black fabric. He gave it a smart tug, and the sheet slowly slipped to the ground.

The exposed, pale flesh seemed to glow in the moonlight. Severus quickly stifled the strong feelings of repulsion he had first experienced at the sight of the young woman's naked body being presented to him. Her face was turned away from him, but her hidden identity did nothing to relieve the disgust beginning to churn violently in his abdomen.

_Dumbledore knows not what he asks of me_. Snape bit back his anger. He had a fairly decent idea of what performance the Dark Lord was expecting of him, and he was far from eager to complete it.

"May I?" Snape addressed Voldemort, remembering he still had a role to assume and a reputation to protect. When the dark wizard nodded expectantly, Severus swallowed his pride and feigned an excited interest in the offering. He allowed one hand to lazily trace the edge of the girl's ivory leg. She remained absolutely still at his touch, but he could feel that the blood was still pulsing through her vessels.

_At least the girl is alive_, he shuddered. _For now._

"Does the gift disappoint, my faithful servent?" Voldemort called.

Severus slowly found his voice, purposefully letting his eyes linger on her form a bit longer than he would have ever wanted. "Not in the least. You are most gracious, my Lord."

Visibly thrilled by Snape's approval, Voldemort nearly danced as he exclaimed to the crowd, "Well then, she must be claimed!"

Snape could feel the excitement ripple through the crowd, and he then mirrored their sentiment.

Voldemort artfully flicked his wand in the altar's direction, and calmly cried, "Rennervate!"

The body in front of Severus instantly became reanimated, and the girl coughed as she awoke. Snape froze as she turned her head and met his gaze.

He was staring into the deeply terrified eyes of Hermione Granger.


	3. The Task Assigned

**Disclaimer: As far as I know, I am not J.K. Rowling - so if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

**A/N: Some of the following chapters will be rather dark - Death Eaters are present, and it is rated M for a reason.**

**Also, it was mentioned that Voldie is quite out of character, and I apologize if it seems that way. I tried to capture how I see him in my head, but probably failed to convey that to those of you reading it. In my view - as especially was captured in the last film - Voldemort, while evil, is a bit of an odd duck, so I thought I would try to have a little fun with his character.  
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**Thanks goes out to GabrielleRickmanSnape, HansGruberForever, HPFanGirl01, Chancc, and the anonymous poster for the awesome reviews!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 3  
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Snape froze as she turned her head and met his gaze. He was staring into the deeply terrified eyes of Hermione Granger.

_She must be claimed_. Severus felt positively sick. It would be a lie to say he had ever been fond of the girl, but he could not find a reason to truly dislike her. After all, she was a member of the Order, and there was no doubt in his mind that she would be a vital component to the downfall of the dark wizards. More importantly, she was his student – his best student.

Voldemort noticed the hesitation in the other wizard. He all but slithered his way around to Snape's shoulder.

"It appears you may have some reluctance, Severus. "

Before Snape had a chance to answer him, Bellatrix Lestrange interrupted. "I would have assumed with your penchant for filthy mudbloods, Severus, she would be more than acceptable to you."

As a chorus of snorts and grunts echoed from the rest of the Death Eaters, Snape realized he had yet to break eye contact with the frightened, young witch lying before him. Her silent pleas seemed to echo through his conscience.

Luckily, Snape was relatively good at thinking on his feet. Immediately he broke away from her gaze and affixed his stare onto Voldemort instead.

"She is certainly more than acceptable – but I wonder if I might have discussion with you before completing the matter at hand?"

The dark wizard hesitated, eyeing Snape with a trace of suspicion. Snape could feel him probing through his mind again. He knew Voldemort was searching for any signs of loyalty to the Granger girl, and he was quick to provide him with only the more negative evaluations he had of her.

As if this satisfied him, Voldemort nodded. With a dismissive wave of his hand, the scene in front of them faded and was replaced instead with the sitting room of a vacant, run-down house. The other Death Eaters, the altar, and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

"Is this more appropriate?" Voldemort questioned.

Severus nodded. "It is."

"Then tell me, Severus. What is it that troubles your mind?"

_As if he could not already see_. Snape straightened as he spoke. "I presume with Granger's intimate connection to Potter that she is invaluable to our approach. Clearly, this must be why she was not killed outright by our purity-driven friends."

As his words trailed to silence, Voldemort let a slow grin appear. "Severus, Severus. You have always understood my motivations. Indeed, I feel the mudblood could be of great service to us. Which is why I have chosen you, one of my most trusted, for this task."

"And I am most honored by the designation, do not be mistaken. I simply wonder," he started. "If I am to be the one to claim her, what is there to safeguard against Dumbledore discovering this. Surely Miss Granger would waste no time in enlightening him of the event, and he would be completely remiss in his mental faculties if he did not immediately make me for a Death Eater once again."

"Your alarm is certainly valid, my servant," Voldemort affirmed. "However, you need not fret. Any concerns of the girl involving Albus Dumbledore are taken care of within the binding rituals themselves. You will have control over her words and actions."

_The binding rituals_. Severus raised a brow as he realized his fears were to become a reality. "So she is to be bound to me, then? Would there not be a more suitable candidate for the binding, my Lord – Draco Malfoy, perhaps? He is much closer to her in age."

Voldemort turned, small flames burning in his eyes. "Do not question my decisions, Severus!"

Snape swallowed, worried he had just failed a test. _Perhaps I have taken my objections too far._

He became relieved, however, when Voldemort immediately returned to a more tranquil state. "Do forgive me – I forget that you have been most faithful and your service has been quite valuable to me. For this reason I will allow you to see why the younger Malfoy is not my selection for the task at hand. Aside from his father's obvious failures."

Severus knew when it was best to remain silent.

"It is well known to Dumbledore and to the rest of the school that the Granger mudblood has nothing but detest for our dear Draco, is it not? It may also be seen as most peculiar if he were to suddenly and frequently associate himself with a Muggle-born."

Snape nodded in immediate understanding. "But, if she were bound to me, it would appear to be nothing more than an insufferable know-it-all tagging along after her Potions Master, hoping to mop up any knowledge him may drop before her."

"Precisely," hissed the Dark Lord. "You need not have worry, Severus. The girl will be incapable of saying anything against you. Whilst you continue to keep an eye on Dumbledore's doings, you will also see to it that she keeps a tracking of the Potter boy."

Severus stiffened and acknowledged his acceptance of the assignment.

"And now we shall return ourselves to the gathering before our more eager companions become keen on thwarting the process before it even begins."

As the ransacked residence transformed once again to the darkened field, Severus knew exactly to whom he was referring.

When the scene solidified in front of them, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the air. Instinctively, Snape pulled his wand to the ready.

"There will be no need for that," Voldemort whispered to him. "I will take care of this."

Snape could do nothing but watch as Hermione helplessly flailed about under Bellatrix's torture.

Voldemort sauntered away from him, and the Death Eaters parted as he returned to the center of the circle.

"Oh, when the cat's away, how the mice will play!"

At the sound of his voice, Bellatrix released Hermione from the cruciatus curse and smiled. She batted her eyes at Snape as he returned to his place, and then she turned again to address her leader.

"I am sorry, my Lord. Just thought I would have a bit fun with Sevvy's new mudblood. Loosen her up a bit for him, perhaps." She then licked her lips, and stepped down to join the rest of the crowd. "Do not be angry with me, dear Severus!"

Snape did his best to ignore her as he cleared his mind in preparation for what he was about to do. He had never personally been involved in a binding ceremony, but had witnessed a handful of them throughout his time of service under the Dark Lord. It was not a pleasant process, but then – the Death Eaters were not the most pleasant members of society.

He placed a hand on Hermione's arm, which was now moist with perspiration. The gesture was meant to be one of comfort to her, but it only elicited a whimper from the girl.

_Surely she must realize it is about to get much worse for her_, Snape thought. The practice of binding involved three steps – each one more painful than the last.

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><p><em>AN: Sorry this ended kind of abruptly - my originally planned update was twice as long as all the other chapters, so I thought I'd break it up a bit._


	4. Binding Ceremony

**WARNING! This chapter is probably one of the darkest I will post for this story. Just a heads up before you read. Thanks!  
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**Disclaimer: As far as I know, I am not J.K. Rowling - so if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

**A/N: Some of the following chapters will be rather dark - Death Eaters are present, and it is rated M for a reason.**

**Also...I will try to update this as quick as I can - though I did start a fic for NCIS before creativity struck here, so I should probably split my time between the two.  
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**Thanks to HPFanGirl01, apricot2516, Pavi's Girl, BloomingViolet, Chancc, Infrena, Mrs. Twilight, GabrielleRickmanSnape, in transit, angellicious02 for reviewing!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 4  
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Are you ready to begin, my servant?" Voldemort tilted his head as he awaited the response.

Snape removed his hand from the girl, and gave a stiff nod.

A hush fell over the Death Eaters as they settled into watch the affair. As he reviewed the process in his own thoughts, Severus questioned how he could have ever fit in with this group in the beginning. Too foolish he had been, and it had definitely cost him. Putting those feelings aside for the moment, he stepped forward to Hermione – ready to claim her thoughts, her flesh, and her blood.

_First,_ he recollected, _her mind would have to be penetrated_. As he was skilled in the powers of Legilimency, Snape would be able to perform this task quite easily and could perhaps manage to spare her some emotional pain. He would still have to make her suffer some, as Voldemort would be keeping a close watch over the process.

He stood so her head was positioned beneath his chest, and placed his right hand over her eyes. Though this was technically unnecessary for the Legilimency process, he had found that touch could make the connection stronger – and it also meant he could avoid staring into those pleading pools of brown.

For several minutes, he ignored the whimpers from Hermione as he strode through her most private thoughts and memories. He knew full well that Voldemort had already interrogated her consciousness for any knowledge she may have had regarding Harry Potter and the Order, so he spent little time dallying there. He did, however, make sure to dredge up a few painful recollections for Voldemort's sake before placing his mark deep within her conscience. As swiftly as he could, Snape retreated from her psyche and returned to the outside world.

Voldemort looked pleased at the progress as he spoke. "Her mind bears your mark – now so shall her flesh."

Severus nodded, pausing to decide which location on her body would be most suitable. The physical pain would differ little among them, but he could place it somewhere less visible to her.

He gave a wave of his wand, and Hermione grunted in surprise as she suddenly found herself lying on her stomach.

Snape swallowed heavily as he placed the tip of his wand into the smooth skin of her lower back. He let no emotion enter his countenance as he uttered the words, "Sectum nomento," under his breath.

Hermione screamed in agony as the wand sliced through her flesh.

In the interest of sparing her the drawn out torture, Snape signed his name in a quick flourish. He could feel disappointment emanating from the audience. Those who had previously performed the process themselves generally opted to take their time carving their names into their victims with the intent to cause the most amount of anguish possible.

As it was, Snape had to struggle to tune out the horrific cries from the girl as she writhed in pain before him. He lifted his wand away, and stared solemnly down at his signature in her creamy flesh, blood dripping from the endpoints of every letter. The edges of the words glowed orange – reminding him of the embers of a fire beginning to die out. He had never been so close to the cursed to see the dark magic sink into the skin.

"Quickly, Severus," Voldemort cooed. "It must be finished."

The third step was the most barbaric in Snape's opinion. Virtually no magic was used, but its scars never fully healed.

After placing his wand in the chest pocket of his robe, he grabbed her ankles and whipped her again onto her back. He had done it with such force; the wind was knocked out from her, leaving her voice little more than a wheezy gasp.

"P-please….Professor…."

Laughter erupted from the Death Eaters who were close enough to overhear.

"P-p-p-please!" mimicked Bellatirx "P-p-p-professor!"

Snape paid the female Death Eater no heed as he focused on the abominable task before him. Not wanting Voldemort to sense any weakness from him, he ignored Hermione's repeated appeals for leniency.

Without any further thought, he dropped his trousers to the ground and stepped out of them. He then climbed on to the stone table and positioned himself above her.

Hermione stared into his eyes, her breath catching as realization struck her.

"No!" She screamed, tears streaming down her face. "Please, no!"

"Silence," Snape hissed at her, under his breath. The more she struggled, the more he was expected to punish her.

She struggled to move away from him, but invisible ropes tethered her to the spot.

_You're only making this harder for yourself_. When her eyes narrowed in response, Snape knew she had heard the thought._ So the connection has had already begun to form._

_Go to hell._ He flinched as Hermione spit in his eyes. Angered, Snape slapped her hard across the face.

While she was momentarily stunned by his striking of her, he took advantage of her momentary pause in struggle. He wrenched apart her legs and positioned himself at her opening. Reminding himself of the fact they both would be killed if she did not succumb to him, Severus made himself erect and plunged deeply into her.

Her scream nearly shattered his ear drums.

He did not brush off her outburst as an overreaction – she was so tight around him that it could not have been anything but excruciating. Snape lowered his gaze from her face and stared instead at her small, white breasts as he continuously thrust into her. He tried to picture them belonging to someone else, but Hermione's persistent sobbing made it next to impossible.

Eventually her deafening cries subsided to diminutive snivels that seemed to catch in the back of her throat. Her body ceased its violent squirming beneath his weight and Snape could sense she was defeated. As much as it disgusted him, he could feel himself teetering on the verge. With one final push into her, he grunted as the release came.

Hermione gasped as his seed filled her.

Sweat dripped down his brow as he withdrew his member from her. Severus suppressed the urge to vomit when he saw the blood seeping from between her legs.

"Excellent, excellent!" Voldemort cried, patting Snape on the shoulder after he had dismounted and redressed. "I expect great things to come of this arrangement, Severus."

Snape respectfully dipped his head in response.

Voldemort turned to the gathered Death Eaters. "The hour draws late, my friends. I bid you all farewell."

One by one, the Death Eaters disapparated into the dark sky until only Snape remained in the Dark Lord's audience.

"You have given me much comfort, my old friend. The moment will come when I must call upon you for your trusted service once again, but until then," Voldemort paused as he gestured to Hermione's crumpled form. "Please do enjoy what I have bequeathed to you."

"I thank you," Snape articulated, with a sweeping bow.

"But now, I feel it is time to retire for the evening," Voldemort said with a swirl of his robes. "Good-bye, Severus."

With that, the Dark Lord vanished, leaving Snape to drop his shoulders in mild despair. He turned back towards the stone slab.

Hermione shivered with fear at his approach, and made a pitiful attempt to scramble away as he drew his wand from his pocket.

"Requietem pacis," he whispered. A sapphire blue wave radiated from the end of his wand and wrapped itself around Hermione, sweeping her into a peaceful slumber. After dismissing the invisible tethers binding her to the altar, he removed his outer robes and gently draped them around her. He scooped her motionless body into his arms, closed his eyes, and disappeared.

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><p>AN: For those of you who expressed curiosity about the "binding process" and what it means for our two beloved characters - it will be fully explained as I see it in upcoming chapters. Thanks for your patience and continued reviews!


	5. Panic

**A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the awesome reviews! apricot2516, HPFanGirl01, Fire. Bread. and Dandelions, Amanda Young, GabrielleRickmanSnape, Infrena, Chancc, Mrs. Twilight - I am so grateful!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 5  
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As the edge of the school grounds appeared in front of him, Snape felt his right foot sink into the marshy land.

_Just bloody perfect_, he grimaced while pulling his foot from the muck and immediately jumping up onto solid ground. The quick action jostled Hermione's unconscious body enough that one arm slipped out from beneath the robes. Momentarily, he set her feet on the ground with the intent to reposition her. He also used the time to withdraw his wand from his pocket, and silently cast a patronus.

Within seconds the glowing doe sprinted across the darkened grounds set in its mission to alert the Headmaster of their return to Hogwarts. Snape swept Hermione back into his hold and followed the doe's path.

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

Albus Dumbledore stood tall, his beard glowing in the moonlight of the dark, stone hallway. At the sound of footsteps, he cleared his throat.

"Severus, my dear boy – you gave me quite a scare with that Patronus of yours. It did make me curious, though, as to why an owl wouldn't have sufficed to inform me of your return."

As he rounded the corner and caught sight of the elderly wizard, Snape could not decide if he should sigh in exasperation or snarl in anger. As such, he opted instead for contrived politeness as he closed the distance between the two.

"My apologies, Headmaster. I felt the situation would be handled best with exigency."

"Indeed, you are right," Dumbledore nodded, a grave expression on his face as he glanced down at the girl in Snape's arms. "Madam Pomfrey is already expecting you."

"Do you feel that wise, sir?" Snape had been attempting to decide what to do with Hermione during the trek across the grounds. He had realized, of course, that the girl would require medical attention, but he was hesitant in regards to letting her be treated by the school's matron nurse.

Dumbledore raised his brow quizzically. "Is the uncertainty for Miss Granger's sake, Severus – or yours?"

The younger wizard gave no immediate verbal response, but he quickly recognized the validity of the headmaster's question. Snape could not deny that he was uncomfortable – perhaps even embarrassed – with allowing anyone to see what he had done. However, his personal fears were not the only reasons to question the decision. He had little doubt in Poppy Pomfrey's general healing abilities, but he personally believed her skills in tending to victims of dark magic left something to be desired. Madam Pomfrey herself had confided in him a similar fear, only a few weeks prior. Whenever she was uncomfortable with her abilities in a situation, she would not hesitate to send the wounded to St. Mungo's Hospital. In this instance, however, transferring Hermione to that facility would be too great a risk to her safety – and his. The Dark Lord had spies everywhere - no doubt they had infiltrated St. Mungo's as well.

Snape chose to skirt the truth, however, when he finally found his voice. "I am of the opinion that the fewer people who know of this, the better it will be for all of us. That is all I mean."

Raising a hand to Snape's shoulder, Dumbledore spoke with a knowing expression. "Madam Pomfrey will do everything that can possibly be done for her, and will do so with the utmost of discretion. I am also quite sure that any suggestions or improvements you may have in regards to Miss Granger's care will be more than welcomed."

Without more than a second's pause, Snape relented. He then gave a rigid nod as he continued on his way to the hospital wing.

As he pushed through the doors, Madam Pomfrey appeared from another room, holding a tray of salve.

"Just set her there, Professor," she instructed, gesturing to the bed nearest to him.

Snape gently laid Hermione onto the clean bed and stepped back, watching intently as Madam Pomfrey immediately moved bedside. He moved his gaze towards the window as she pulled his robes away from the girl's chest.

"Oh dear, oh dear," she muttered sadly as she conducted her visual examination. Madam Pomfrey reached for the jar she had brought out, and began tending to the small abrasions on Hermione's face.

Knowing full well the medium-strength ointment would have little effect on the more serious wounds Pomfrey had yet to discover, Severus silently removed himself to the hospital store-room.

Once alone, he let a long-winded sigh escape his lips before going about his business. He saw a number of woven baskets hanging by the door of the small room. He grabbed the largest one, and began pulling jars of salve and bottles of multi-colored pain potions from the shelves. When he had exhausted the inventory, he scowled as he recognized that none of them were likely to appease the angered flesh over her spine. The dark curse would require something much stronger - something he could trust no one but himself to brew correctly.

He moved to return to the main hospital room, and then suddenly stopped when a revolting thought hit him. Turning back to the shelves, Snape's eyes roved over each and every bottled potion in storage. Finally spotting the small vial of salmon-colored liquid at the back of the third shelf, he quickly snatched at it. It was the only ampoule of contraceptive remaining in the stores. He grimaced, realizing this was something else he would have to personally infuse.

Cursing under his breath, he spun on his heel and emerged from the store room.

Madam Pomfrey was still uttering phrases of concern over the young witch, but Severus paid little heed to them. He set the basket of concoctions on the stand beside the bed, and interrupted her motherly ramblings.

"Forgive me, Madam, but I believe you may want to administer this rather promptly."

The nurse stopped so suddenly it was almost as though she had been hit with a Freezing Charm. Her gaze dropped to the pink vial he held out to her, and she began to stammer.

"Wha-...bu-" Horror filled her eyes as she searched his face, and she then glanced towards the girl. Reeling from shock, she snatched at the robes covering Hermione and completely removed them. A sorrowful sigh escaped from the older woman as she took in the rest of the injuries.

For what seemed like an eternity, Snape stood oblivious to her comments and questions, and he barely noticed the matron nurse had removed the flask from his hands. He was horrifically transfixed by the dark bruises beginning to erupt beneath her pallid skin. A cold shudder ripped through him as he acknowledged responsibility for them - his fingers were the ones that had dug into her arms, his knees had been the ones to push into her thighs.

_It had to be done_. He repeated the phrase several times in his head. She was battered and bruised, and would no doubt suffer nightmares. She would hate him - he was sure of it. But she was alive - and that meant he could live with the rest.

After all, he had done everything he could to spare her. _ Or did I?_ Snape pinched the brow of his nose as he remembered he had raised his hand against her._ That had not been necessary - she had already been more than overpowered_.

_So what if she had spit in your face? She had every right to do it - she had every right to struggle and fight back. _ Her strength and determination were something to be respected - admired, even - but instead it had angered him. Snape clenched his fists tightly as he felt his body begin to shake. His face felt flushed, and it seemed the walls of the hospital wing began to close in on him.

In a state of panic, he fled the room.

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

He did not cease running until he had reached his office in the dungeons. Throwing shut the door behind him, he sank down to the stone floor and held his head in his hands.

"What have I done?" he whispered through heavy breaths. He leaned his head back against the door and closed his eyes to the darkened room. He wanted space - privacy - but even here he was haunted by his actions. Her eyes were emblazoned upon his mind - he could see the tears welling up in them as she pleaded with him. He had forced himself to ignore them then, but, hard as he tried, he could not ignore them now.

The images of that evening were painful enough for him - he could not bear to think how they would affect his student. She was sleeping peacefully now, but consciousness would return soon enough - and with it, the nightmares. Hermione would be forced to see him everyday - eventually she would become numb to the pain, but in the meantime it would likely be torturous.

_If I could eliminate that?_ Snape rested his chin in his hand. _ A simple memory charm could work_. One swish of his wand, and the most horrifying experience of her life would be gone. There were risks, of course -

A sudden whirring of sound caused him to open his eyes. A fire had started in the fireplace, and through it, he could see Dumbledore's office.

"Severus?" the Headmaster called out, as his head became visible through the flames.

_Blasted man - can he not leave me alone?_ Snape sighed, rolling his eyes, attempting to remove his emotion as he slowly rose from the ground.

"Yes?" he answered, stepping closer to the fire.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, there you are. I had thought perhaps you would stop by my office -"

"There were other concerns that required my immediate attention," Snape quickly offered, interrupting the older man. "I do apologize."

"Apologies are not necessary, Professor." Dumbledore's eyes held sadness as he shook his head. He remained silent for a few moments while studying his subordinate. "You are tired, Severus. Rest now, and we will discuss the status of things after the sun rises."

Snape straightened and gave a stiff nod.

Dumbledore seemed ready to turn away, but then stopped.

"Something else on your mind, Headmaster?"

The elder wizard dipped his head in response before he spoke. "Our memories are what shape us, Severus. As much as it troubles you and I, Miss Granger must not be deprived of hers."

Dumbledore gave a tight smile and terminated the connection. The cheery flame swallowed itself into cold ash.

Though it pained him, Snape was in agreement. He knew that if Lord Voldemort or any of the Death Eaters were to invade her mind in the future and find that incident absent, the consequences would be disastrous.

He sighed, turning away from the cold hearth. He was admittedly more than tired, but there would be no rest for him that night. There were still things that needed to be done before the morning sun arrived.**  
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><p>AN: Thanks again for reading, guys. It may be a little longer before I can update - got some very busy days ahead of me. Apologies!


	6. Confrontation

**A/N: I love that there are some new names leaving reviews along with the returning readers! Thanks going out to Fire. Bread. and Dandelions, Chancc, Infrena, HPFanGirl01, Mrs. Twilight, Kayleigh-FanfictionAddict-21, P3, Lover of Fantasy, as well as everyone who placed this on their favorites list!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 6  
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The sky was a lightened gray in the haze of the morning fog by the time Snape apparated back onto the Hogwarts grounds. In one hand, he carried a small woven bag that drooped as though loaded with heavy cargo.

His eyelids felt as though they were ready to do the same, though he knew no sleep would come even if he let them. Instead he resorted himself to silent grumblings as he strode across the soggy grass. The cheery chirpings of unseen birds made his head twinge with ache.

Finally, he entered into the gigantic stone corridor of the Hogwarts castle. Without even slowing his gait the tiniest bit, he let the bag drop from his hand. As it hit the floor, its contents - including two large wooden trunks, a few travel bags, and a mauve suitcase - exploded into a sloppy pile. He did not look back at it - he simply left it for the house elves to find.

Quickly, Severus made his way up the tower stairs to the Headmaster's office. As he approached the large stone gargoyle, Snape scowled. He rolled his eyes as he spat out the password.

"Strawberry Shortcake." _ Must the man always think with his stomach? I swear if he offers me another one of his bloody lemon drops..._

The gargoyle allowed him passage to the circular staircase, and he climbed to the office door and knocked quietly.

"Do come in, Severus!" The familiar voice called out from within the sealed room.

Snape pushed open the door and stepped into the cluttered, and excruciatingly disorganized office.

Dumbledore sat at his gargantuan desk, huddled over some loose pages. He shoved them away in a drawer and waved Snape forward.

"Come in, come in. Have a seat." He stood, gesturing to the empty, mismatched chairs in front of his desk.

Severus walked forward, but only placed a hand on the back of one of the chairs. "If I may, I'd rather stand."

Dumbledore put his hands up in surrender and shrugged. He reached out for a purple glass bowl on his desk. "Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you," the dark-haired wizard choked out, suppressing the urge to strangle the elder man with his own scraggly beard.

"Alright," the Headmaster accepted, setting the candy dish in its proper place amongst the clutter. He glanced back at the younger professor. "Shall we?"

Snape dipped his head and waved his hand. The pensieve appeared from its storage space and floated over towards the desk. Placing the tip of his wand at his temple, he pulled a long shimmery string from his mind and deposited it in the liquid of the pensieve. He then pocketed his wand, and stepped away from the device.

Dumbledore made his way to the large bowl, and Snape retreated to the window beyond the desk. While the headmaster poured through his memories of the prior evening's meeting, he leaned his head against the stone edge of the window. Snape closed his eyes and attempted to shut down all thought processes for a few moments' rest.

It must have worked, for it seemed to be only seconds before Dumbledore cleared his throat after leaving the pensieve and returning to the present time and space.

As his eyelids quickly flew open, Severus shifted his gaze to meet the elder's grave expression.

"Severus...I..." Dumbledore shook his head as he searched for the words that seemed to escape him.

A fire settled in Snape's stomach as he realized the man was already working through strategies. Scowling, he took a small step towards the headmaster. "That," he spoke forcefully, pointing at the pensieve, "is what you have asked of me. You do realize,sir, that it's not just picnics and pumpkin juice!"

Dumbledore briefly closed his eyes and looked as though a great headache were plaguing him. "I am fully aware of what horrors Voldemort and his followers are capable, Severus - as were you when you agreed to be of service to me and to the Order."

Snape sighed, wiping his hand over his face as he remembered the night of desperation so many years before. He had been willing to do anything to keep Lily alive, and Dumbledore had been quick to use that to his advantage. Until now, he had never really regretted his decision - until now, he had not had a reason to do so. Everything he had done so far had been done in Lily's memory - but presently he was nothing but ashamed to know what she could have seen had she been watching.

Dumbledore continued speaking, a touch of frustration evident in his tone. "I have asked no more of you, Severus, than what I know you can withstand."

"Withstand?" he hissed. "I just stole the innocence of a student - of a child - and shall be forced to do it again! I ask of you, Headmaster, exactly how am I to _withstand_ that?"

The older man held one hand up. "Miss Granger is nearly of age in our world, and you know as well as I that she shows wisdom well beyond her years. I have no doubt that she -"

Snape was in the midst of raising a violent objection when a sudden commotion caused both men to direct their attention towards the office entrance. Within fractions of a second, the double doors were thrown open with a heavy bang.

Professor Minerva McGonagall stormed into the room. She was still dressed in her tartan nightrobes, and her long hair protruded wildly in all directions from under the loose bun piled on top of her head. Her current, disheveled appearance was in such a contrast to her normal prim and proper persona that the effect would have been rather comical had it not been for the wrathful air she was presently exuding.

"Tell me it cannot be true!" she screeched as she strode with determination towards the two, her wand dangerously directed at Snape.

He shifted slightly in discomfort, but Dumbledore moved swiftly to intercept the angry witch before she could do any damage.

"Minerva, please." He placed his hands on the side of her arms in a comforting manner. "It will not help to get riled up."

While the deputy headmistress gave no immediate verbal response to this, her mouth continued to quiver with rage. Her fiery eyes attempted to burn holes through Snape's pale forehead.

"Pardon me, Professor Dumbledore," she stated harshly, suddenly looking towards the elder wizard. "But when Poppy Pomfrey alerts me to the fact that one of my students is lying in the hospital ward in such a serious condition, you are lucky all I did was _get riled up_!"

Snape raised his eyebrows in mock surprise at the revelation of Madam Pomfrey's consultation of the deputy headmistress. "The utmost of discretion, sir?"

"You!" She shouted, leaning past the Headmaster's extended arms and waving her wand menacingly. "Give me one good reason - just one, Severus Snape - that I shouldn't blast you into a million filthy pieces!"

Snape slammed his hands down on the desk, fixing her with a cool glare. "As much as it would amuse me to see you try, Minerva - were you somehow to succeed, you would be resolving Miss Granger to the same, unfortunate fate."

Professor McGonagall seemed to be taken aback by the statement. Her eyes nervously shifted back and forth between Snape and a mysteriously silent Dumbledore.

"Sir?" she ventured, her voice dropping several notches. "Could this possibly be true?"

Dumbledore gave a sad nod, clearing his throat. "Yes."

When he offered no further explanation, she pointedly shifted her gaze toward the other man in the room. Raising a stern eyebrow and tilting her head slightly, she silently implored him for answers.

Snape stood to his full height and met her acrid stare with an icy one of his own. When she refused to look away after several moments, he sighed, deciding to humor her - though it went against his better judgment.

"It seems that Lord Voldemort has determined Miss Granger to be a valuable asset. In order to control her, he has decided it would be best to bind her to me."

"B-bind?" McGonagall, visibly upset by the revelation, let out a long breath as she sank into a chair. Snape watched as her face paled to a shade that rivaled his own.

"Is she - does she know?" she asked, nervously wringing her hands.

Severus glanced at Dumbledore, who dipped his head in approval. He then dropped his gaze to the desk as he answered. "Miss Granger was fully conscious through the process, though she has been placed in a deep slumber since then. Seeing as we do not _teach_ students about such practices here -," he paused, sending a suggestive look towards Dumbledore, "-it is highly doubtful that she is aware of the significant impact it shall have on her life."

"Which is why, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted, "you shall inform her of it as soon as she awakens. We haven't any time to waste."

Snape nodded, but McGonagall rocked forward out of her chair. "Professor Dumbledore, I must insist on being present when the girl is told."

As the headmaster appeared to be lost in thought, the other man answered instead. "That will not be necessary, Minerva."

"It's Professor McGonagall to you! And necessary or not,_ Professor Snape_," she shouted in a shrill voice, "_I_ am her head of house and _I_ possess more compassion than a quidditch quaffle - neither of which truth can you lay claim to!"

His nostrils flared, but he swallowed back a nasty retort. Instead he raised his brow and smoothy uttered, "As you wish, _Mi-ner-va_."

The Scottish woman's eyes widened with fire as she took a step towards Snape.

"Enough!" Dumbledore's voice roared, stopping both Heads of House in their bitter exchanges. "You may stay, Minerva - but the subject will_ not _leave the confines of this room. I happen to agree with Severus, that the fewer who know about this, the better."

McGonagall respectfully dipped her head, fixing Snape with a mildly pretentious stare.

The look went unnoticed by the Potions professor as he became suddenly preoccupied by a painful cry that echoed through his conscience. He breathed in deeply, and wordlessly began making his way around the desk towards the door.

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Rolling his eyes, Snape turned around to face the deputy headmistress. "As Miss Granger has awakened, I thought it might be prudent to fetch her."

"Oh I can picture several things I'd like you to fetch," McGonagall said bitterly. "As for Miss Granger, however, I do believe I should be the one to get her."

Without waiting for approval from either of the wizards standing next to her, McGonagall quickly strode from the office.

Snape stared angrily after her with his teeth bared, while Dumbledore simply shook his head.

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><p>AN: So - I'm quite excited, because in the middle of the night, I had an epiphany as to how this story is going to end. My only problem now - is getting there. Ha ha.


	7. Coming to Terms

**This chapter is way longer than any previous ones, but I wanted to make sure I got some explanation in...guess you guys just have to deal.**

**A/N: Thanks for all the positive reviews! Kayleigh-FanfictionAddict-21, Zevus, Odile1001, Chancc, HPFanGirl01, Mrs. Twilight, Infrena, P3, krissy cullen1989, Fire Bread and Dandelions, and Gabrielle Rickman Snape = totally awesome!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 7  
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Light poured in through the large windows as Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Her tongue rolled around in her mouth as she tried to remove the odd aftertaste of sleep. After a few seconds, she suddenly realized she was not actually staring at the ceiling of her bedroom.

As confusion set in, Hermione rolled her head to the side and glanced about her surroundings.

"What?" she whispered. _Hogwarts? Why am I in the hospital wing?_

She crinkled her forehead as she attempted to remember how she had gotten here. The blue fog of deep sleep was temporarily preventing her from doing so, which understandably frustrated Hermione. She could not remember ever experiencing a sleep so intense that she could not control any of her muscles, let alone her mental faculties.

As a dull ache started to spread through her body, the memories of the past day began to reappear as fragments in her head. _Her parents. Running from the house. Dark clouds. Startling noises. The Death Eaters._

The pain in her backside was becoming more intense as she remembered waking in the middle of a field staring into the cold eyes of Lord Voldemort himself. She whimpered as just the memory of Bellatrix Lestrange's cruciatis curse again sent small, but potent ripples of pain through her body.

_Professor Snape. Snape had been there. Snape had...He raped me_. Hermione cried out in agony as the images that followed flowed through her mind. Her back was burning with such intensity she would have testified to anyone that the bed was on fire. She jolted into an upright position, hoping to reduce the stinging sensation. However, the sudden action only served to aggravate the wound further, and Hermione screamed at the searing pain.

"What is - Oh, Miss Granger!" A severely concerned Madam Pomfrey came running from the next room. She hustled over to a table and grabbed a large flask of a purple solution that was sitting in an ice bath. Bringing it over to the bed, she pulled out the stopper and held the bottle out to Hermione.

"Drink this," she directed.

Hermione grabbed it hastily, narrowly avoiding having it spill all over her hospital-issued pajamas.

"Careful," the matron nurse chided as the girl raised the glass container to her lips.

Hermione choked down a large gulp of the cold, tasteless potion. It felt like ice sliding down her throat.

"Finish up," Madam Pomfrey instructed, gesturing to the half-full flask. "Not too quick, though. Freezing your brain won't do you any good."

_Everything I went through and she's worried about a bloody brain freeze?_ Hermione shocked even herself when she heard the snort escape her. She giggled in embarrassment, and then slapped her free hand over her mouth and stared wide-eyed at the nurse. _What in Merlin's name just happened?_

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow in surprise, but then cleared her throat. "Well, I guess it must be working, then."

"How can you -" Hermione's voice trailed off into a small hiccup-like laugh as she realized the pain had miraculously vanished. "Oh."

The healer grabbed the potion from her, and made to return it to the iced cauldron.

"Hey - I haven't finished it yet," the young witch called out, pointing to the significant amount of liquid still left in the flask.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "Miss Granger - I do believe you've had enough."

Hermione put both hands on her face, whispering strangely, "Why do I suddenly feel like laughing?"

The elder witch sighed as she straightened the towel beneath the ice bath. "He said that could be a side effect. It shall wear off soon enough, though."

"He?" Hermione twitched her face into a quizzical expression. She was met with no answer except for the opening of the hospital wing doors.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall smiled, though Hermione could see the sadness clouding her eyes. "It is a great relief to see you awake and upright. You gave us quite a scare this morning."

Hermione gave her favorite instructor a weak smile. She had never see the woman appear so uneasy that she would not bother to dress properly or even fix her hair.

"How are you feeling, Hermione?" McGonagall asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

The girl sighed mournfully as she contemplated how to answer the question. Part of her wanted to gloss over everything and say she was fine. A smaller, but much angrier voice wanted to scream out_ 'I was just raped and tortured by a man I trusted - how do you think I feel!_', while another portion of her just wanted to bury her face in the woman's skirt and cry.

None of the options were appropriate - she did not want to lie to her head of house, nor did she want to blame her or appear weak in front of her. Eventually, Hermione quietly uttered, "I've been better."

Professor McGonagall let out a deep breath, and gave a grim smile. "Well, yes - I suppose you have. Are you fit to stand?"

Nodding glumly, Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed and rose to her feet. An acute onset of dizziness, however, had her immediately reaching for the bed post.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" McGonagall quickly stepped forward, placing a hand on the girl's back.

Hermione nodded quickly, wincing at the hot pain that occurred from the touch. "Uh, yes. Yes. I think I just stood up too fast. I'm fine now."

"Well, alright then," McGonagall gave a hesitant nod, removing her hand and sharing a concerned look with Madam Pomfrey. "If you are sure, Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you in his office."

Straightening up, Hermione gave a somber expression of consent and waited for Professor McGonagall to lead the way.

"Thank you, Poppy," the deputy headmistress calmly stated as she pulled open the door.

Madam Pomfrey dipped her head in acknowledgment.

Hermione gave the matron nurse a tight-lipped smile, but dropped her eyes to the floor as she stepped out into the hallway.

Professor McGonagall said next to nothing as they made their way through the castle. Normally, Hermione would have been grateful for the silence as it allowed her to mull over things in her head. Today, however, she would have welcomed a distraction. The giddy feeling that had flooded over her after taking the potion had vanished nearly instantaneously just as Madam Pomfrey had predicted. In its place, a nervous sort of tingling could be felt throughout every body part.

Several painful thoughts and questions flowed through her mind. _Snape was a Death Eater - not just a casual observer reporting back to the Order, but an active participant. He was one of Voldemort's most valued men - how could the Order trust him? _

Absentmindedly, she wiped away at the few tears that were threatening to fall.

_I trusted him. He's my professor; I'm his student - how could he do that? How could he take that from me?_

A tear trickled down as she shamefully realized that her pitiful cries for mercy had not given him the slightest pause. _ He didn't care._

The last thing she could remember was Snape walking towards her after Voldemort had disappeared. He had raised his wand, her vision flashed blue, and then everything faded into complete darkness. Hermione thought she had been dead. She thought Snape had killed her. _But how can I be here? I'm not dead. Did someone find me? Who saved me? Who brought me here?_

_What happened to Snape? Did he flee? Or humbly try to crawl back into Dumbledore's good graces? Is he dead? Why should I even care?_

McGonagall cleared her throat, snapping Hermione from her thoughts. She glanced at her Head of House who was gesturing to the circular staircase beyond the stone gargoyle. Hermione had not even heard her utter the password, she had been so wrapped up in her internal queries.

"Miss Granger," the Gryffindor head witch spoke calmly, in a low voice. "You're going to have to prepare yourself."

Hermione swallowed nervously and started to climb the steep steps.

McGonagall followed closely behind her on the narrow staircase. Once they reached the office doors, she moved so she was standing immediately beside the girl. Hermione did not gaze up at her - she simply kept her eyes on the door in front of her. McGonagall sighed and pushed into the office, holding the door open for her student.

Hermione tried to find her confidence as she stepped across the threshold. She could not even begin to imagine how she could explain everything to Dumbledore._ Professor Snape raped me - stole my virginity. I can't say that. I can't. I won't. It's so painful - and embarrassing - and..._

Hermione froze as she saw the black robes standing against the brightly lit window. He did not even have to look at her - her legs were already turning to jelly. A hot, revolting feeling was rising up from her stomach, and she tried to shirk back towards the door.

"No, no, no, no," she whispered under her breath. She stopped only when she collided into something solid. Glancing up into McGonagall's concerned face, Hermione let the tears well up in her eyes.

Professor McGonagall sought her hand, and held it firmly in her grasp. Hermione swallowed some of her fear and took a step forward.

"Good morning, Hermione," Dumbledore spoke calmly to her from his desk. He gestured to the large armchair in front of him.

Snape did not need to turn around. He had heard everything that had gone through her mind since she had first awaken. Even now he could feel her staring at him fearfully as McGonagall slowly guided her to the seat. He knew he was the most informed person in the room regarding the subject, and as such, should be the one to explain it to her. However, he had no desire to watch her face as he did so.

Hermione's chest rose and fell dramatically with panicked breaths as she sat down, never once removing her eyes from Snape's backside. She did not dare to even blink, for fear he would suddenly be upon her.

_Why would he return? Why would Dumbledore allow him to be present for this? Why would McGonagall! _She ventured a quick gaze at her Head of House and was met with a stern look of support. Hermione quickly shifted her eyes back to the dark form. _She would never agree to this,_ _unless..._

Dumbledore cleared his throat, catching her attention, as he rose from his chair. "Pity the circumstances, Miss Granger, but it is good to see you. Would you happen to care for a -"

"Oh Albus, give it a rest! Nobody wants a bloody lemon drop!" McGonagall shouted.

Hermione and the Headmaster both glanced up at her in surprise, while Severus felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk.

The elder witch flushed with embarrassment at her loss of control and mumbled a quiet apology.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No apology is necessary, Minerva. We shall move on quickly."

He sat on the edge of his desk, focusing his attention on the girl in front of him. "Hermione, we are well aware of the grievous events that transpired last night, and I want to assure you that you have all of our deepest sympathies. In fact, I do believe the one who regrets this situation the most is the one who shall have to bring you the most anguish."

Hermione's eyes flicked to Snape. She could see his shoulders were slumped and his head was resting against the window. His current posture was in stark contrast to his normal, proud stance.

_He did care - he must have._ Hermione chewed on her lip. _He's still Dumbledore's man...which means he only did what was necessary._

She could not believe she was beginning to feel sorry for him, especially when she replayed through the assault in her mind. Again, she could feel him inside her, and could feel the sting on her cheek where he had struck her.

Logically, she knew he had next to no choice in the matter. Had he refused, his cover would likely have been blown, and the Order would be down a spy. _But if he was proving to Voldemort where his loyalties supposedly lie, why risk it all to save me? He should have just left me to die. Why didn't he?  
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Snape gave a half turn and shot a fleeting glance towards his student.

"_That_ is your question?" He boomed in surprise. "Out of everything you could demand of me - you ask that?"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. She stammered as she spoke. "W-wha - Y-you can -"

"Yes, Miss Granger, I can," he answered, turning back to face the window. "It may interest you to know that your innermost thoughts are no longer private."

The girl's jaw dropped as her mind reeled.

Severus gave her virtually no time to process the information, as he continued speaking. "As to your question, Miss Granger - you are not among the dead because the Dark Lord did not wish you to be so. At the present moment, you are more valuable to him alive."

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because," Snape responded with an irritated sigh, "Potter trusts you with his life. You have intimate knowledge of his doings, which would be of great value to the Dark Lord were you to share it with him."

"Never," she spat, violently shaking her head. "I will never -"

She was interrupted by McGonagall laying a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Which is why," the Potions master replied, "he demanded that you be bound to me."

_Bound?_ Hermione glanced at Dumbledore and then towards Professor McGonagall. Neither maintained eye contact with her, so she returned her gaze to Snape's dark robes.

Without blinking, Severus answered. "The result of the binding process, which you were unfortunate enough to endure last night, is the tethering of the victim to their assailant through their mind, flesh, and blood."

The room remained absolutely silent, save for his haunting voice.

"As we are now so, I can see your thoughts and feelings. I can manipulate your very expressions. You will be unable to speak or act against me. Your flesh responds to my very commands. Any attempts to disobey me, and it will burn as it did this morning."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut as she remembered twisting in agony. She swallowed heavily. "And my blood?"

A brief spot of pain shot through her arm as McGonagall's grip on her shoulder suddenly became tighter.

Snape exhaled heavily and shifted uncomfortably. "Your blood shall now be infused only with mine. Any lineage of yours shall forever be entwined with my own."

_Lineage?_ She paled._ He means children. If I have children..._

_Then they shall be borne from my seed._ She jumped as his voice sounded through her psyche.

McGonagall's hands moved from Hermione's shoulders to her hair as the girl lost control of her tears.

Hermione no longer cared if she were thought weak. _I'm sixteen - I'm supposed to be weak. I'm s__upposed to be carefree. My parents are supposed to worry about me staying out late - not about this, __not about...oh my god, my parents.  
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"I want to go home," she stated quickly.

Professor Snape turned to meet her eyes. His forehead crinkled as though he had not understood the statement.

Hermione straightened in her seat and challenged his gaze as she repeated, "I want to go home. Take me home."


	8. Tea and Comforts

**A/N: So many reviews last chapter! It definitely made me happy - which is a good thing when one is ill! Thank you to Sasamii, Kayleigh-FanfictionAddict-21, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Infrena, Odile1001, KittyPrimms, HPFanGirl01, Lover of Fantasy, EdgeOfGlory, Phoenixica24, sweet-tang-honney, snarky snape, Zevus, Chancc, Fire Bread and Dandelions, Mrs. Twilight, KerryMuggle, Dyno Mouse, Weelou23, and becknox71270!**

**Sorry for the longer wait...hopefully I can have the next update ready sooner...  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 8  
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Hermione leaped forward from her chair and stood against the desk. "I said, 'Take me home!'"

"Miss Granger -" Dumbledore began to address her, but a fierce look from Professor McGonagall silenced him.

The young Gryffindor witch seemed not to hear the Headmaster as she never once removed her gaze from Snape's face.

Snape returned the fiery stare for several minutes before he finally dropped his eyes to the desktop, swallowing heavily. His voice was quieter than usual. "I cannot do as you command."

Hermione's eyes narrowed in rage.

"And why not? Look at me, and tell me!" Desperation was creaking into her voice._ Look me in the eyes, you coward_.

Severus's gaze immediately snapped to her irate eyes. He blinked once before answering. "There is nothing for you there."

_Nothing for me?_ Hermione stared incredulously, her mouth hanging open slightly. Quickly her jaw snapped shut. "No! My parents are there - they're worried sick! I never came home last night. They don't know where I am! I need to make sure they know I'm alright. I _need_ to see them. _They_ are there!"

When he said nothing, Hermione's forehead creased in anxiety. "They _are_ there, aren't they? Tell me they are there!"

Snape let a large breath escape. "I am sorry, Miss Granger - "

"No," she whimpered.

"- But they are gone."

_Gone? _In mere seconds, her anger deflated into anguish. _ My parents can't be gone. They can't be. I would know. I would feel it. I would..._

Hermione suddenly felt as though the world had dropped out from under her. She could feel three pairs of eyes focused on her, yet she could do nothing but stare at the floor for fear that it too would disappear. She could not breath - the air felt thick, as if it were choking her. Heat was rising from her churning gut - she felt as though she was going to be sick. She could not handle it.

"They can't... I can't... I have to..." Her panicked words trailed off as she felt the room spinning. _I have to get out of here.  
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Hermione bolted from the room. Blinded by grief, she flew down the staircase haphazardly. As she ran into the corridor, her foot caught the edge of the base of the stone gargoyle, sending her sprawling onto the floor. Her body was suddenly screaming in pain, but Hermione barely even noticed as she wept loudly into the stone flooring.

The sudden feeling of hands upon her upper back made her flinch.

Professor McGonagall knelt on the floor beside her. She grabbed the girl's shoulders, turning her body so Hermione's face could be seen. The girl's eyes were angrily red, and the tears had left shiny streams down her cheeks.

McGonagall pulled Hermione into a firm embrace, tucking the girl's head beneath her chin. She offered small phrases of comfort as the girl clung to her tartan nightrobes.

"Come, come now, dear," she cooed, using her hand to slip soggy locks of hair out of the girl's face.

For several minutes, McGonagall held Hermione close to her as they sat on the cold floor. Several concerned portraits turned their attention to the pair as the girl sobbed violently into the other witch's robes.

"It will be alright," McGonagall soothed.

"How can it!" Hermione responded in an angry wail. "They're gone!"

"Shhh..." The deputy headmistress softly quieted her. "Now you know that's not true, Miss Granger. They may not be here - but they will never really be gone. The ones who love us never truly leave."

Hermione gave a soft sniffle as her anger melted back into quiet mourning.

McGonagall glanced down at the girl again, and gave her a brief squeeze. "Now, let's get you up and off the floor, shall we?"

Hermione nodded weakly as the tears slowly continued to fall. She allowed the Gryffindor Head to pull her to her feet.

McGonagall placed her arm around Hermione's shoulder, guiding her swiftly through the hallways of the castle.

By the time they came to a stop, Hermione's eyes had run dry, and she found herself standing in front of a small lion cub.

"Panthera." McGonagall spoke the password in a low voice, and the picture frame extended into a door, which swung open to reveal a cheerily lit room.

A long, ornate settee with emerald green upholstery sat in front of a white marble fireplace. A small black cat slept curled up in a tartan throw blanket that rested on the cushion of a high-backed armchair which matched the sofa.

Professor McGonagall steered Hermione across the threshold and had her sit on the comfortable couch. In a swift turn, she wordlessly ignited a fire in the fireplace and then disappeared into another room.

The cat lazily opened her eyes at the newcomer, stretched out with a yawn, and then immediately settled back into sleep.

Within a few seconds, McGonagall reappeared, properly dressed in her green robes and carrying a silver tea tray. She set it down on a small end table, and poured the tea into a small cup.

"This will help," the wizened witch stated as she passed the porcelain teacup to the girl.

Hermione wiped under her nose with her sleeve before grabbing it. She sniffed at the steam rising from the hot liquid and sighed as she felt a gentle calm instantly wash over her.

McGonagall nodded in satisfaction and poured a serving for herself from the silver kettle. She sat down next to Hermione and sipped carefully at her tea.

After a few small swallows of her beverage, Hermione rested the teacup in her lap and stared into the fire.

"Do you think they suffered much?" she asked, suddenly.

"Oh, well," McGonagall's voice quivered a bit as she lowered her teacup. "No, I don't believe so. I'm sure they went quickly."

"Because they already had what they wanted," Hermione added darkly. _Me._

Her professor gave a sad sigh in response.

The girl's eyes never left the dancing flames. "My last words to them were that I needed space. I was upset. They didn't want me to return this year - they were worried. The last thing they did was try to protect me, and I ran away."

"You mustn't blame yourself, Miss Granger," McGonagall said softly, placing a hand on Hermione's knee.

"But I shouldn't have been so angry with them," she responded. "I shouldn't have run away. I should have been home with them."

McGonagall gave a sad look to the fireplace. "Had you been there, Hermione, it is likely they would not have fared any better."

Hermione nodded slowly. She knew, of course, that she alone would have been no match for a group of Death Eaters - even with her wand - but it failed to make her feel less guilty. A single tear trickled down her cheek as she pictured her parents' concerned faces staring back at her from the fire. _I will never see them again._

A spark popped in the fireplace, and a sickening thought struck her. She glanced up anxiously at the woman beside her. "Do you think Professor Snape -"

"Absolutely not," McGonagall answered immediately without letting the girl finish her thought.

"How can you be so sure?"

Staring into the girl's fearful expression, the deputy headmistress sighed and shook her head. "As deplorable as Professor Snape's actions and behavior were last night, he would not do anything that was not necessary to maintain his position in You-know-who's ranks."

This did little to reassure Hermione as she quickly retorted, "And what if Voldemort _ordered_ him to kill them!"

McGonagall rose from her seat, and paced over to the bookshelf, wringing her hands. "As far as I have been told, Professor Snape was summoned directly to the gathering, and returned with you immediately following."

Hermione grunted and looked down at the teacup in her lap. _So it's still possible then._

Minerva turned back towards her. "Now Professor Snape and I may have our differences, but Albus - Professor Dumbledore - trusts him, so _I_ trust him."

The elder witch stepped back to the settee, and sat down. She reached out and touched Hermione's cheek. When the girl met her gaze, she spoke. "But just so you know, if that man puts one toe out of line with you, I will have absolutely no qualms about hexing him into the next century."

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

Hours later, after several more calming bouts of tea and a lunch that she had barely managed to pick at, Hermione finally convinced Professor McGonagall that she was okay to be on her own for the afternoon. As she set out from the Head of Gryffindor's quarters, she silently prayed that she would not run into anyone on her way to the Gryffindor Tower. She was most worried about bumping into Professor Snape, and so as soon as she was out of McGonagall's hearing range, she sprinted through the halls and up the stairs.

She was quite winded by the time she arrived in front of the Fat Lady.

"Oh dear," the picture pronounced loudly. "You don't look so good!"

Hermione glared at her coldly, and the Fat Lady's eyes widened.

"I didn't mean anything by it, of course, dear. I just meant you should take better care of yourself - oh dear, don't cry!" The Fat Lady shifted nervously, her pink skirt rustling.

Hermione angrily wiped away the few tears that had involuntarily erupted, and shouted out the password. "Magnolia Blossom!"

The portrait swung open to the familiar Gryffindor common room.

"I sincerely apologize!" The Fat Lady called out to her as Hermione climbed through the hole and quickly strode through the empty room. She pushed open the door to the Girls' Dormitory and proceeded up the steps until she reached the Prefects' room. Upon entering, she walked past the perfectly made beds until she came to the one she had utilized only a few months before. She flopped onto the bed and curled into the fetal position, scrunching the pillow tight against her chest. She heaved several big sighs as she sobbed into the satin coverlet.

A small shift in the weight of the bed startled Hermione and she jumped up into a defensive position. At the sight of a fluffy, ginger-colored cat with a squished face, she sighed and melted back into the mattress.

"Oh, Crookshanks," she sighed sorrowfully as the rumpled feline snuggled up against her face and purred. "What are we going to do?"

As the cat began licking her cheek with his rough tongue, she stroked his soft fur. Hermione was grateful for his comforting presence and gave a silent thanks for having someone - or something, rather - other than Professor McGonagall for support. She appreciated everything the deputy headmistress had done to console her, but still she was ashamed to be so emotional in front of the head witch.

_Crookshanks_, she told herself, _won't judge me for it._

After a few minutes of crying into the feline's ginger coat, a realization dawned upon Hermione.

"Wait a second," she exclaimed, picking up her familiar and holding him against her chest. "Just how on Earth did you get here?"


	9. Waking Nightmare

**A/N: Thank you Dyno Mouse, HPFanGirl01, KateInSpace, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Sasamii, severusgrissom, Burnedx2, Lover of Fantasy, antigone, Infrena, Chancc, Odile1001, angellicious02, Phoenixica24, sweet-tang-honey, and P3!**

**I am trying to respond to all reviews when and if I can, so if you have questions or suggestions, they are more than welcome!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 9  
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At the sound of a heavy wind blasting rain against the window pane, Hermione awoke with a start. She had fallen asleep on top of the duvet, curled tight into a ball. As a result, her muscles were complaining of stiffness.

Crookshanks, who had been lying on top of her, opened his eyes and gave a look of mild displeasure as she stretched out her legs.

"Sorry," she whispered, sliding out from underneath him. She waited until the cat had closed his eyes again in sleep, and then sat up. She ignored the throbbing pain over her spine as she brought her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she rested her forehead upon her knees and squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

_It's all just a bad dream, _she told herself_. I fell asleep in the clearing. I'm going to open my eyes, and everything will be right again. Mum and Dad are still waiting for me in the sitting room - I'm going to tell them how much I love them...and then...then we're going to leave. I'll do what they ask - leave Hogwarts behind, leave magic behind and go somewhere safe._

_It's time to wake up, Hermione. Wake up, wake up, wake up!_

A bright bolt of lightning lit up the room, and the deafening clap of thunder that followed caused Hermione to jump out of bed.

As her bare foot touched the cold floor, she felt her ankle buckle beneath her weight and she pitched forwards. She managed to catch herself before falling to the floor by grabbing hold of the bedside table. While steadying herself, the intensity of the pain shooting through her body proved she could not possibly have been dreaming.

"You're awake," she hissed beneath her breath.

She silently stepped to the window seat and climbed onto the soft red cushion. She curled up against the window sill, and stared into the gray of the morning storm. _It wasn't a bad dream. You weren't dreaming. Everything that happened was real. The nightmare is real. The nightmare is your life. You can't wake up from it- as long as you're alive, you can't wake up. As long as you're alive... _

She chewed on her lip as the tempest roaring through her mind grew darker than the sky outside.

_ As long as I'm alive, I can't wake up...which means, I have to ... die_. She swallowed heavily and closed her eyes. _ If I were dead, I wouldn't be alone. I could see Mum and Dad again. It couldn't be that hard to do. I could -_

**_"MISS GRANGER!"_**

Hermione jumped out of the window as the angry voice bellowed over her thoughts and nervously glanced about the room. At the sight of a pair of big, gold eyes, she fearfully backed into the window seat.

The creature stepped forward holding a tray.

"Dobby is sorry!" The house elf squeaked. "Dobby did not mean to frighten Miss Hermione Granger. Dobby only meant to bring her food now that she is awake. Dobby should not be sneaking -"

"Dobby, stop!" Hermione called out, stepping over to take the tray. "It's okay. I shouldn't have been so jumpy."

An odd smile replaced the apologetic expression on the house elf's face as she took the food from him. "Hermione Granger is kind to Dobby. Dobby never forgets this."

Dobby took a step backwards and gestured to his body. "When Dobby heard Hermione Granger was at Hogwarts, Dobby made sure to wear his brand new clothes!"

Hermione could not help but smile at the elf's newest ensemble. A bright pink vest was mis-buttoned over a blue and yellow striped t-shirt, while his bottom half was adorned with a grass skirt. His left sock was red with reindeer faces, while the one on his right foot was sky blue with little yellow duckies.

"You look absolutely lovely, Dobby," she answered.

The house elf flashed her a toothy smile and bowed. "Dobby must return to work now."

With a snap of his fingers, the elf disappeared with a slight pop.

The smile on Hermione's face nearly immediately followed suit as she sighed. Glancing down at the breakfast foods assembled on the tray, she realized she was in no mood to eat.

She set the tray on the bed next to Crookshanks, who quickly set to nibbling on the strips of bacon.

Hermione patted the cat on his head before folding her arms against her chest and returning to the window.

_That was utterly stupid, Hermione_, she told herself, shaking away the morbid thoughts that had come to her earlier. _Weak and careless and stupid. You're better than that_.

She ran a hand through her hair, wincing at the several knots she felt forming. The dirt and blood had already been removed by Madam Pomfrey, but she could not help but feel it was still there. Her whole body felt sticky and disgusting.

Hermione turned away from the window and dropped her arms to her side.

"Crooks, I'm going to take a shower."

The cat made no move to look at her as he moved on to devour the scrambled eggs.

"Glad you care," she muttered, making her way to the wardrobe where all of her clothing had mysteriously appeared the day before. After pulling out a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and some clean underwear, she walked towards the door.

The sight of an envelope on the floor made her stop. She picked it up, opened it and began to read.

**Miss Granger,**

**Time must not be wasted. **

** As soon as you awaken, you may find me in my office.**

**_Professor S. Snape_**

Hermione scowled as she glanced between the letter and the pile of clothes in her hand.

"Well, _he_ may consider personal hygiene a waste of time, but I certainly do not!" A pained smirk crossed her face as she exited the room, leaving Crookshanks to watch the note flutter to the ground before returning to his feast.

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

Down in his dungeon office, the corners of Snape's mouth turned upwards in a tight grin as he stood over a bubbling cauldron. He could not be completely sure that Hermione realized he could hear everything she said - insults included - but given her affinity for retaining and applying information, it was highly likely that she did know.

This probability intrigued him. Hermione Granger may before have blatantly disregarded him in class by helping other students against his orders, but she had never been one to verbally affront a teacher. While he recognized his normal self would have spat out a much nastier retort and then punished the girl for her offense by assigning her to some degrading task, he felt it best to "let it slide" under the current circumstances - for the most part, at least.

Although he would never admit to it - even under pain of torture - the disrespectful remark had relieved him greatly. Though he had interrupted her previous near-suicidal thoughts, he still held concerns that she would return to them when left to her own devices. The snarky bit of fire that had suddenly surfaced in Hermione would do well in carrying her through the darkness.

Severus reached for a clump of shrivelfigs, but paused when he heard Hermione's thoughts returning again to him. She seemed to be determining how far she could trust him by weighing out everything she knew he had done to help the Order and comparing that to all of the nasty things he had said and done in the time she had known him.

He actually winced when she recalled his reaction to her being hit by Malfoy's curse during her fourth year. He had not meant to be so cruel to the girl as to insult her physical appearance or dentition - after all, who was he to judge - but Karkaroff and Moody - the fake Moody, as it was - had put him on edge. Added into thatwas the fact that Potter had just attacked his favorite student while simultaneously depriving him of the opportunity to witness his biggest rival's son with teeth down to his ankles. Out of disappointment and residual anger, he had spoken sooner and more harshly to her than he probably should have.

Only when the cauldron angrily splashed onto his sleeve did Snape snap his attention back to his own surroundings. Cursing, he hurriedly snatched up the plant parts and tossed them into the hot liquid. When the brew simmered down and was once again calmly sputtering along, Snape collapsed into his seat and rubbed his temples.

The incessant emotions flooding through his thoughts were beyond distracting. Granted it had come in handy when he desired to avoid the girl as her own wishes to not run into him had given him a clear depiction as to where she was in the castle. However, he knew that as much as the girl spoke out loud, it was likely that her head was filled with at least ten times the chatter.

_Oh God_. Snape rolled his eyes as he discerned just how much he hated useless babbling. If he could not work through something to shut her out of his mind soon, he was likely to strangle the girl himself.

Sighing, he immediately felt a twinge of guilt at his last thought. It was not the girl's fault that the Dark Lord had targeted her, or that she was now forced to contend with a short-tempered, impatient, and unpleasant man for the rest of her days.

_Besides_, he told himself, _Hermione Granger is the most intelligent witch of her age. Her incessant babbling isn't likely to be completely pointless. Somehow she has managed to keep herself and those two blithering idiots alive for the past five years. Surely Potter and the youngest Weasley boy owe a great deal of gratitude to Miss Granger and her sensibilities._

He, however, was finding the girl rather puzzling. While her initial reaction to seeing him had been mostly expected, what Snape had not predicted was that she actually took the time to consider his position. He had done unthinkable things to her - had betrayed her trust - and yet there she was, seeming to almost pity him. He knew that Hermione was still afraid of him and that she was greatly hesitant in their spending time alone, but as of yet there appeared to be no hatred.

_Give it time_, he thought grimly. There were two weeks before the halls of Hogwarts would be filled once again with hundreds of students, and his attention would have to be split among his several obligations. In the meantime, however, he would have to dedicate most of his energy to preparing Hermione for the difficult times that lie ahead. The long hours of mental onslaught day after day would in all likelihood lead to her feeling nothing but contempt for him.

_That may actually be preferable_, Severus reasoned. Until he could trust Hermione to effectively shield and supplement her thoughts and emotions while in Voldemort's presence, disgust and revulsion towards him may be beneficial for her to possess.

Absentmindedly, he began to rub the back of his hand. It had begun itching several hours prior, but he was refusing to have it treated. He could feel the long, raised lines in his flesh and knew there were also two puncture wounds in his index finger.

_Bloody cat._ If he had not believed the shaggy fleabag would mean so much to the girl, he would have gladly blasted the tufted furball straight to the seventh circle of hell.

A sudden lapse in Hermione's considerations caused him to take notice. He could feel her presence beyond the door - she seemed to be building up her courage before facing him.

He sighed and waved his hand, causing the door to fly open to reveal Hermione standing wide-eyed with her hand raised, about to knock.

"Enter," he commanded, rising from his seat and returning his attention to the cauldron nearest his desk.

Hermione visibly swallowed before taking a cautious step into the room. She glanced about in mild disgust at the shelves lined with jars of things floating in liquid. Several cauldrons were set up around the room, each bubbling and giving off puffs of steam.

After several minutes of staring at the back of Snape's robes waiting for him to address her, she folded her arms and cleared her throat in impatience.

Snape made no effort to turn around and instead stepped over to the next cauldron to sprinkle in some dried goosegrass.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione found a small voice. "Professor, you requested me to be here."

He gave a brief turn of his head, allowing her to see his raised eyebrow. "So I did, Miss Granger. However, seeing as you found it necessary to waste_ my_ time, I find it only fair for me to waste_ yours_."

Her jaw dropped as she narrowed her eyes in response.

Satisfied by her reaction, Severus stepped away from his projects and turned to face her. He gestured to a rigid, wooden chair in front of his desk and then moved towards his own seat.

An accusing glare set in her eyes, Hermione followed his unspoken command and slowly walked toward the seat. Without removing her gaze from his form or unfolding her arms, she gently settled onto the piece of furniture so as to not jostle her wound.

Snape raised his brow as he took in her careful motions. He considered asking if the pain had diminished with the potion he had sent down for her, but the fierce look on her face told him she was not looking for compassion at the moment.

_She wants answers_, he realized, twisting his mouth as he figured how he should approach it. Finally he spoke.

"Seeing as the Dark Lord is looking to use you as a spy - willing or not, Miss Granger - the Headmaster feels it is best we begin your training in Occulemency immediately." He paused as he felt her anger break as the significance of his words sank in.

When she nodded, he continued. "I, on the other hand, feel your lessons may be delayed a short while without any further consequence. Occulemency requires a calm mind, and in your current...emotional state...it is doubtful any suitable progress would be made."

He held up a hand to quell her coming interjection. "And since it is in your nature to be an insufferable know-it-all, I feel it may behoove us to allow you to quench your insatiable thirst _before_ we begin, thus preventing further sessions from being interrupted by your incessant... _badgering_."

Hermione at first gritted her teeth, feeling quite insulted, but after a few seconds tilted her head and parted her lips in consideration.

Severus could have sworn there was a small sparkle in her eye as she took in a deep breath and nodded her assent.

"Well then," he exclaimed, conjuring up a chilled carafe of water. "After yesterday's displays, you must be feeling quite dehydrated."

Snape had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress the smile that tried to appear as a bitter expression once again graced Hermione's countenance.


	10. Answers

**A/N: Longer chapter, yay!**

**Thanks to Lover of Fantasy, HPFanGirl01, Odile1001, sweet-tang-honney, becknox71270, Infrena, circular-illumination, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, angellicious02, Fire Bread and Dandelions, and P3 for the awesome reviews! Keep 'em coming!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 10  
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Hermione felt her cheeks go red and her bottom lip quivered as she fought the urge to shed more tears.

_Don't cry, Granger. Don't you dare cry. He's not worth it - the stupid arse. _Her parents were dead and here Snape sat, mocking her grief. _Ron and Harry are right. He is a greasy-haired git._

She fixed him with a bitter glare, resolving not to let him affect her further. "Do you expect me to drink it out of the jug, sir, or am I allowed a glass?"

With a dip of his head, a small water goblet appeared in front of her. Snape poured it full of water and slid it towards her.

Hermione hesitated in reaching for it.

"For Merlin's sake, Miss Granger, it isn't poisoned," he spat with a roll of his eyes. "If I wished you dead, you would already be such."

_How comforting_, she thought as she clasped the glass and brought it to her lips. As the cool liquid slipped down her parched throat, though, she could not help but feel a mounting sense of appreciation. _Maybe this _is_ him trying._

An annoyed sigh from the Potions Master made her suddenly realize he was listening to her thoughts. Before he could jump down her throat again for wasting more time, she returned her attention to what he had said earlier.

"So you can hear everything I think?" She asked quietly, wrapping her fingers around the water goblet.

"Indeed," Snape confirmed, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "And _yes_ - I have already heard every question you have pondered to this point. I could answer them all if you so wish...however... I thought it would be best to give you the opportunity to decide what... knowledge... you truly want to behold." He paused with a raise of his eyebrows. "There may be some questions you shall wish to leave... unanswered."

Hermione swallowed heavily and closed her eyes in acknowledgment. Her mind was reeling with everything she wanted to know. _Why me? Why him? No, that's obvious - I'm Harry's know-it-all friend; he's a professor. That makes sense, I guess. But if Voldemort just wanted me under control..._

"Why not an Imperius curse?" She met his eyes, and was surprised to see trace amounts of confusion written in them.

Severus cleared his throat to regain composure. "The Imperius curse is a powerful means of controlling one's victim, undoubtedly. However, as you may remember from your coursework - it can be overcome by an exceptionally trained mind."

Hermione gave a brief nod. "Yes, I remember. Harry told me he was able to fight off the one Moody - er, Crouch - put on him."

"Yes, well," Snape snarled, "there's always the chance for a fluke happenings, resulting in complete dunderheads being able to shake off their masters' biddings."

Hermione rolled her eyes before deciding upon the next of her questions to ask. "Why have I never heard of bind - of the ritual?"

Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. "It is not for me to conjecture why you have failed to acquire every last piece of knowledge in the magical world, Miss Granger. That being said, binding is an ancient form of Dark Magic, predating even the earliest of the Unforgiveables."

Hermione remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

As if some unseen, silent timer had sounded, Snape quickly rose to the side of the cauldron. Producing two large flasks from his robes, he began bottling the completed potion, whilst speaking once again.

"Once the Imperio curse was available for use, the antiquated binding rituals fell out of favor. As time progressed, the population of wizards aware of and capable of completing the process became increasingly small. Eventually, all references to it disappeared from literature and other common knowledge."

As he set the flasks upon his desk, Hermione recognized the potion as being identical to the one Madam Pomfrey had given to her the morning prior.

Snape banished the now-empty cauldron to the corner and returned to his chair.

"It wasn't until the rise of the Dark Lord that binding made a reappearance. Even so, nearly all of the wizarding world - civilized or otherwise - remain blissfully ignorant of the practice."

"But sir," Hermione interjected, "if binding is that much more effective than the Imperius curse, why wasn't it used more?"

Snape stared at her in disbelief, but after a few moments' silence, indulged her darkened curiosity. "While the Imperio is not permanent like the binding process, it is much more pragmatic. It allows one to control one's victim just long enough to achieve a desired goal or outcome, and does not require as much...upkeep. The Dark Lord, however, has never been known for his practicality."

Hermione never heard his last sentence. Her voice wavered only slightly as a nervous knot began to form in her stomach. "Upkeep?"

"Yes," he answered slowly. "The bonds must be periodically... renewed."

She closed her eyes, knowing full well he was dancing around the truth. Her head was screaming. _Just spit it out already!_

Severus expelled a silent breath and dropped his eyes to his desktop. He spoke barely above a whisper, but he knew she could hear every word. "In order to uphold the connection and ensure our bloodlines remain forever united, you must regularly submit yourself to me or suffer immense pain."

The shattering of the water goblet as it hit the floor caused him to look up from the desk.

The girl sat before him shaking with tears streaming down her face. He could see everything that was running through her mind. Images of that night - of everything he had done to her.

Snape tried desperately to quiet the deep rage that was boiling inside him. It was not natural for someone to be so clinical - so logical - about the situation so quickly. He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner - he had been blinded by the fact that Hermione Granger had always been cool-headed under pressure.

Now as she sat gasping for air, her body wracked with sobs, he fought both the overwhelming urge to shout at her until he was blue in the face as well as the sudden, odd desire to gather her into his arms and hold her tight against his chest until she had quieted.

"Miss Granger," he stated in a firm voice.

She seemed to not hear him as she pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She began rocking slightly in the chair.

After a few minutes' time and several failed attempts to verbally capture her attention, he reached hesitantly for her shoulder.

At his touch, she immediately launched off the chair and crashed to the floor. She screamed out in pain and her face contorted in agony.

Snape stepped forward, concern etched upon his features_. Something's wrong - she shouldn't hurting this much._

She tried to slither away from him as he bent down over her, but the pain slowed her greatly and he effortlessly overtook her.

"Silence, Miss Granger," he instructed as she began to protest his sudden proximity to her.

She could only whimper as he gently rolled her over onto her stomach. He could feel the heat emanating from her back, and quickly raised her t-shirt to expose the skin. Her flesh was inflamed to such an angry red that Snape nearly balked at the sight.

"Miss Granger, did Madam Pomfrey give you the icing potion yesterday?" When she failed to answer quickly, his voice raised in desperation. "Answer me, girl!"

"Y-y-yes," she stuttered, through fits of tears.

"How much of it did you ingest? Did you drink all of it?"

Hermione's head was shaking. "N-no...H-h-half!"

"Daft, incompetent woman!" Snape cursed as he sprang to his full height and rushed to his desk. He grabbed one of the flasks containing the finished purple potion and quickly returned to the girl's side. He lifted her shirt again, and paused briefly to give a word of warning. "This is going to burn more than anything you have ever felt before - but it shall soon pass."

As she nodded fearfully, bracing herself, he began slowly pouring the liquid over her spine. White bubbles formed on the wound as Hermione writhed on the stone floor.

He rose from his knees, amazed at her ability to manage the pain. The tears had vanished, her cries had gone silent, and the only twitching was from her body's involuntary spasms. Within half a minute's time, those too ceased, and Hermione laid quietly still.

As an eerie silence fell over the room, Snape sank back against his desk with his head in his hands. _Why couldn't I feel her pain before? How could she keep it so well hidden?_

"Professor?" Hermione whispered in a weak voice. She had yet to move, her perspiring face still pressed against the cold stone. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Severus closed his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The magic takes time to effectively sink into your body. The pain you were experiencing was the curse settling into the ends of your nerve fibers. The icing potion was meant to numb your nerves, so as to prevent any painful sensations. Ingesting the liquid takes longer to dull the senses, but is virtually painless while still giving the same length of protection as applying it directly. However, since that stupid woman failed to give you the full dose, its effects only lasted a short while."

"She's not stupid," she breathed.

He sent a dark glare toward her unmoving form. "The evidence shows to the contrary, Miss Granger. She was given direct instructions, and yet blatantly disregarded them - at your own peril, I might add."

Pushing off from his desk, he purposefully strode over to one of the other cauldrons, and gave it a quick stir, while muttering under his breath. "No better than that worthless being, Longbottom."

Hermione shifted into a sitting position, wiping away the evidence of her tears. "She only gave me _half_ because I was experiencing the side effects that _you_ warned her about."

"And what, pray tell, were those?"

She glanced down at the floor in embarrassment, adjusting the hem of her shirt. "I was feeling giddy...and giggling."

"Giddy? Giggling?" He sneered. "My, my - we most certainly cannot have that. How absolutely horrid it must have been for you, Miss Granger."

Hermione glared and took a deep breath. Before she could retort, however, Snape expelled a deep breath and gave explanation.

"As I said, the potion works to dull the senses. When applied directly, it will target only what it touches. However, when ingested, everything is affected - mental sensibilities included. So, yes, Miss Granger, you may have been giddy and giggling, but no more so than you would be after a night of drunken revelry."

He turned away from the cauldron long enough to fix her with a harsh stare before once again tending to the simmering liquid. As he reached for a small brown bottle from the shelf, he added, "If your prerogative is to mope around on my floor all day, do have enough courtesy to find someplace where I am not required to step over you."

She sighed deeply, gathering all of her strength, and pushed up from the floor. Her body had other plans, however, and she soon found herself swaying back towards the ground. The room was spinning and Hermione clutched at her aching stomach.

Sensing her distress, Snape quickly whirled around in time to see her falter. He heaved a sigh as he crossed the distance to her.

"Miss Granger," He began.

"I'm just a little light-headed," she quickly responded.

Severus shook his head in frustration. "_Miss Granger_, when did you last eat?"

Hermione glanced at the floor in embarrassment, whispering, "Yesterday."

"And exactly how much did you actually eat yesterday?" he questioned, pushing on his forehead as though he were experiencing a great headache.

"I had a sandwich," was her reply. _Well, part of one, at least_.

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she tried to remember the last time before then that she had eaten. She had left her house hours before supper would have been ready, and she had awaken just before lunch on the day the Death Eaters had taken her.

_One meal in three days._ Snape groaned, giving her a disgusted grimace as he grabbed a handful of her sweat-ridden shirt and hauled her up to her feet.

Hermione squeaked as he roughly pushed her down into his own seat. She stared at him indignantly as he waved his hand, and a golden plate appeared upon the desk. At the sound of him clearing his throat, she glanced down to see a hearty-sized roast beef sandwich and a bowl of vegetable soup.

"Isn't this_ your_ lunch, Professor?" she asked pointedly.

"Yes, well seeing as I possess the intelligence to keep my body well-nourished - something which you are clearly lacking - I am able to forgo a meal for a few hours without so gracelessly crashing to the floor."

When she made no motion towards the food, Snape growled. "Are you completely daft, girl? Eat!"

Hermione stuck her bottom lip out in protest, and met his glare with a challenging gaze. Her stomach was growling, and, as the seconds ticked past, her back was beginning to twinge. The odd sensation brought tears to the corner of her eyes.

_Gryffindors and their stupid pride_. _She's lucky the potion is still working_. Severus threw his hand in the air, as he tried a new tactic. "Clear your plate, Miss Granger, and you may help me with these."

As he gestured to the sputtering cauldrons around the room, he could have sworn the corners of her mouth turned up into the smallest of smiles.

Within seconds, she began ferociously attacking the sandwich. As she moved onto slurping down the soup, Snape shook his head in bemusement.

In a matter of minutes, Hermione appeared at his side, peering over the edge of the steaming cauldron.

"What is it, Professor?"

"It isn't anything yet," he commented vaguely, "but once finished it is known as Vacuus Ortis, a powerful contraceptive."

Her face flushed a rosy pink as she stared at the bubbling liquid. "Oh, I, er, I didn't realize Madam Pomfrey kept that on hand."

At the sound of his snort, she glanced up at him.

"While I'll be sending a small number of vials down to the hospital stores, I believe it may be preferable if the rest were to remain in my possession." He paused, taking in her momentary confusion. "Forgive me, Miss Granger - but impregnating you is not something of which I'm very keen."

Her eyes went wide as she immediately sent her gaze to the floor. She felt her ears flaming with shame as she muttered a muted, "Oh."

Severus rolled his eyes and handed her a small jar. "These are pomegranate seeds. When the bubbles begin to die down, it means the Neem Oil has effectively infused with the essence of Daucus flower, and you are to add a handful of those. Understood?"

Hermione nodded in silence, keeping her eyes fixed on the cauldron.

"When the mixture becomes carmine in color, you will add a bundle of dried smartweed leaves. You will find those on the stool beside you. You shall know the potion is finished brewing when it is salmon-hued."

She glanced down at the herbs and nodded once more.

Snape turned his body away from hers, but not enough to obstruct his view of the girl. The cauldron he was pretending to look after contained a mixture that needed nothing beyond another day's simmering, but he was counting on the fact that Hermione would be too preoccupied to realize it. His motives for this were two-faced.

The girl had proven herself more than proficient in his Potions classes, but he needed to remain vigilant, lest she were to mistakenly stray from the proper procedure. The results, as he saw it, would be more than disastrous. Never before had there been a student pregnancy at Hogwarts - at least in his memory - and the rumors and nasty comments would undoubtedly echo through the corridors. _Hermione would be ridiculed - shunned, probably - forced to complete her last two years of education in shame and misery. Then tongues would also be wagging regarding the paternity of her child. Too many questions, too many prying eyes - I won't have it. Any of it._

His second reasoning was more near-sighted. It gave him time to monitor her, unbeknownst to Hermione, which would hopefully provide him with a better picture of how she was holding up. The emotional and physical torture she had endured in a short time would be enough to bring even the strongest witches or wizards to their knees. _She is just a child. She should never have been asked to fight this war. Her strength should never have been tested like this._

After a few minutes, he watched as she dutifully followed his instructions, gracefully sprinkling in the ingredients. She avoided causing any unnecessary splashing - the seeds slipped into the concoction with the most delicate tinkling sound. Her pale hands were steady, without even a trace of quiver or quake.

_Surely this cannot be the same frail waif who shook at my touch_. He stroked his chin with his fingers, attempting to determine if this was true stability, or if she were merely putting up a brave front. _ Either way, _he surmised_, she's stronger than anyone could care to know._

Her quiet voice broke his concentration.

"Professor?"

Snape shook away his thoughts and motioned for her to speak.

"You said the binding is permanent. Is there no way to reverse it?"

He let his gaze drift onto her face, which sported a rather serious, pensive expression. "None that have been discovered. The bonds shall remain intact even in the event of death."

"What?" she hissed. "You mean..if..."

"If I were to I were to die, Miss Granger - no matter the circumstances - so shall you."

His words seemed to hang in the air as she blinked away tears. Breathing deeply, she met his eyes with a new sorrow. "And when will I have to face him?"

He could see images of Voldemort floating through her mind and could feel her fear. He shrugged. "It is not for me to say. I highly doubt he will summon you before the school year has begun as you will have no useful information to pass along."

Hermione nodded sadly and turned back to the brewing potion.

"We will begin your training tomorrow, Miss Granger. With any luck, you will have had enough preparation to keep the truth hidden from his prying eyes. Provided you aren't as unbelievably incompetent as that fool, Potter."

"Why do you hate him?" she asked suddenly.

"What?" he spat, feeling slightly ambushed.

"Harry, Professor - why do you hate Harry so?"

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he stomped back to his desk.

Hermione followed his angry movements with her eyes. "You said you would answer any questions I had, Professor."

"Questions regarding your own situation," he hissed with a darkened glare. "My feelings towards Potter are of no concern of yours. You would do well to keep your nose out of things you cannot even begin to comprehend!"

She sighed, resigning not to press the issue.

The rest of the afternoon passed in awkward silence. When the Vacuus Ortis had completed its brewing, Snape moved next to her to begin dispensing it into small vials. He placed half a dozen into a wire basket and thrust it into Hermione's hands.

"On your way out, see to it that these find their way to Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione gripped the edges of the basket and glanced at him nervously. When he said nothing else, she realized he had meant to dismiss her.

She made her way to the door and quietly slipped into the corridor.

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><p>AN: If any of you are curious - I did actually research the potion ingredients. If any of you are thinking about getting pregnant - you might wanna lay off the pomegranates. And apricots, for that matter. Now don't say I never taught you anything! Ha ha.


	11. Occlumency

**A/N: Sorry this has taken longer to update - my life was rather chaotic the past week, and school starts again tomorrow, so new chapters may not be up as quickly as I would like. Apologies!**

**The reviews are awesome. Thanks to HPFanGirl01, TheraSerenity, Lover of Fantasy, sweet-tang-honney, DutchBaroness, PinguinProduktion, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Infrena, littlekat1010, becknox7120, angellicious02, Odile1001, snapeophil, Zevus, and XxX Fleur-Delacour XxX!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 11  
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Hermione awoke the next morning just as tired as she had been when she crawled into bed the night before. She had forbidden herself from thinking about Snape's outburst regarding Harry, as she knew the surly professor would have been undoubtedly angry after having to listen to it any further. She knew that the first lesson of Occlumency would be stressful enough without any additional ire on his part.

Anxiety about the coming day had left her in a restless frame of mind, as all of her concerns and frustrations continuously threaded their way through her consciousness. The little sleep she did manage to capture had been plagued with vivid nightmares that left her drenched in her own perspiration.

Shivering slightly, Hermione reached down upon the mattress until her hands touched something soft. Crookshanks gave little protest as she pulled him to her chest. She kissed him lightly on the head, eliciting a throaty purr from the ginger-colored animal.

The room was still quite dark - only a small trace of light was pouring in the window. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, Hermione groaned. It was barely past five-thirty. She knew she should try to get more sleep, but the slight ache in her head told her that it would be impossible.

_What to do then?_ She mused, pursing her lips. _Lying here in misery and self-pity is not the answer. I need to do something._

Hermione stared at the largest of her trunks, which had been placed next to her wardrobe. Upon earlier exploration, she had found it contained every book from her personal collection. It had been obvious to her that whoever had packed them away had exercised great care, making sure to place them in tidy stacks, precisely in the order in which she herself had shelved them.

Sighing, she realized that currently, for once in her life, she held absolutely no desire for reading. She let a small chuckle escape her as she pictured Harry and Ron reacting to that statement_. Harry would be wide-eyed with his mouth hanging open, while Ronald would be stammering stupidly, his voice squeaking like a frightened child._

She glanced again at the clock, disappointed to see the minute hand had only progressed three notches. _It's too early to trek down to the dungeons, isn't it? Would Professor Snape even be awake at this hour? It would be rude of me to wake him up just because I can't sleep. I wonder how soon he'll be ready for me. He does seem like the type to be an early-riser, doesn't he? He could already be -_

**_"Awake? It appears that I am so."_** His voice floated to her, traces of irritation present in his tone. **_"Congratulations are in order - your persistent chattering could wake the dead, Miss Granger."_**

Hermione's eyes widened as she felt her cheeks go warm.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Crookshanks opened one eye, glancing at her in curious suspicion.

**_"You may join me in my office, unless, of course, you'd rather finish your discussion of my sleeping habits."_**

"No!" She jumped out of bed, sending the cat skittering under the wardrobe. "I'm on my way!"

Hermione pounded down the steps to the common room and was nearly to the portrait hole before his voice brought her skidding to a halt.

**_"Miss Granger, the school year may not yet have begun, but you are still required to dress properly. I have seen enough of your pajamas this week."_**

"Oh, right." A small smirk appeared on her face as she tip-toed back to her room.

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

A short while later, Severus yanked open his office door in response to the eager knocking.

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione stated quietly.

He gave a small grunt and gestured her inside.

She followed his outstretched hand and stepped over to the wooden chair in front of his desk. A ripple of anxiety shuddered through her as she glanced down at the floor where she had lain the day before. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed away her hesitation and sat down with determination.

Snape strode back to his desk. He could feel her curious gaze settle on him as he began carefully removing objects from his desktop. When two breakfast plates appeared before him, he nodded in satisfaction and moved around to the other side.

Hermione glanced at him curiously.

"I shall not begin your lesson until I know you have been properly fed." He gestured to the plate closest to her, waiting until she had picked up a piece of buttered toast before allowing himself to eat.

He had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes as her thoughts continued to stream through his conscience. _She can't even stop thinking long enough to eat. Bloody know-it-all._

As her inner speakings shifted from her anxiety regarding the upcoming lesson towards her sudden realization that she had never really seen him eat before, Severus felt his mouth twitching and he let out a rather emphasized sigh.

"Perhaps your thoughts should be focused on your own eating and sleeping practices, Miss Granger. From what I have seen, they leave something to be desired."

Her face flushed with embarrassment as she squeaked out a meek apology.

Snape gave a resigned sigh as she returned her thoughts to things not directly involving him. _The girl's maddening - is her brain _ever _silent?_

Even when she was sleeping, her mind was continuously working through complex and twisted dreams. She had kept him awake through much of the night - her nightmares had been his. He had even contemplated taking a Dreamless Sleep Draught just to get through it. His better judgment - _or worse judgment, perhaps?_ - had won out, as he remembered how much he hated the groggy morning after. _Now that I mention it, would it even work? The dreams are hers. I see them through her. Blast it!_

_Hold on. _He froze, his fork loaded full of kippers hung halfway between the plate and his opened mouth. _Why did everything suddenly go quiet?_

Without so much as lowering his arm, he quickly flicked his gaze to Hermione. She still sat in front of him, her second piece of toast half-eaten in hand. Her chest was rising heavier than before, her narrowed eyes transfixed upon something.

Severus swallowed, realizing she was staring at his arm. He shifted uncomfortably. _She's looking for the Dark Mark,_ he surmised.

He dropped his fork to the plate and slid his arm beneath the desk. As he cleared his throat, she shook her head and snapped her attention to his face.

"If you're finished, Miss Granger, we may begin."

Hermione frowned at the toast still in her hand, but nodded and tossed it carelessly back onto the plate.

Snape stepped out from behind his desk and crossed to the middle of the room. As he passed by, he wordlessly spun her chair to face him.

"No doubt after my failed attempts with Potter last year, you took it upon yourself to swallow all the knowledge you could about Occlumency."

Her eyes dropped to the floor, as she was unsure of whether or not he needed an answer.

"Well?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "Tell me what you know."

It unnerved him that she had suddenly become so quiet and withdrawn.

As her lower back began to tingle with the magic, however, the words began to stumble out of her mouth.

"I...I just wanted to help him - help Harry, sir," she glowered at him briefly before sighing. "Occlumency is the art of closing the mind to prevent a Legilimens from accessing thoughts or feelings. It's not a very common ability for wizards to have, as it is quite difficult to master it effectively."

Snape sighed. "It's only difficult to master if one cannot control one's emotions."

Hermione shrugged. "That could be quite trying," she paused, glancing up at his impassive expression. "For some of us, at least."

The memory of a very rage-filled Harry Potter screaming at him from the very chair she now occupied flashed before his eyes. "So it would appear."

He cleared his throat, shifting his robes ever so slightly. "Occlumency is not a skill you can expect to acquire by merely reading a book, Miss Granger. It is something one can only learn through repeated practice. It requires a high degree of mental and emotional discipline."

Waiting until after she nodded her understanding, Snape continued. "In its most basic form, Occlumency involves completely clearing the mind - something I'm afraid you shall find excruciatingly difficult to accomplish. When you are able to do so - and do it well repeatedly - we may move onto the more advanced techniques of suppressing only particular items from view."

Her initial feelings of insult seemed to vanish from her mind as she mentally noted that he had used the word 'when' and not 'if.'

Severus sighed. "Yes, well you will need an advanced knowledge of the art if you have any hope of standing against the power of the Dark Lord. Because, should you fail, death will be a welcome relief from the slow, agonizing torture that you will endure. That_ both_ of us shall endure. If the Dark Lord were to catch even a glimpse of this session, or the incident in the Headmaster's office...our fates shall be sealed."

Her heavy gulp nearly audible, Hermione shifted nervously in her seat. Her hand was shaking as she brushed a loose curl behind her ear. She took a deep calming breath to steady her nerves before tilting her head and speaking in her usual matter-of-fact tone. "Well then, it would be best to get started rather quickly, wouldn't it? I'm ready, if you are, Professor."

He fixed her with a pointed look, trying desperately to quell the hope that was rising in his chest. She certainly appeared to be much more in control of her emotions than Harry had been, and she seemed to grasp the urgency of the situation much better than the boy. She was open to learning the skill and had come down to the dungeons willingly - he did not have to physically drag her there as had been necessary with the young Mr. Potter.

_Well_, Snape acknowledged, _perhaps it had not been entirely necessary, but it had been definitely more than deserved._

The doubt pulling at the back of his mind, however, was keeping him grounded to the harsh reality they were facing. While Hermione was certainly the most intelligent of her age, there was a reason only a handful of witches had ever mastered the skill of Occlumency. He painfully reminded himself that despite the fact many women kept their visual emotions under check, their minds, when opened, were raging bloody messes of many contradictory and multifaceted feelings. _Adding in Miss Granger's age and current traumatic standing can only serve to complicate matters. The sudden grief and hopelessness of her situation coupled with the rampant hormones of adolescence shall undoubtedly hinder her ability to sufficiently empty her mind_.

A small cough interrupted his internal musings and Severus immediately found himself under the scrutinizing gaze of his student. He sucked in a quick breath and committed himself whole-heartedly to the matter at hand.

"I shall penetrate your mind, Miss Granger, and you shall attempt to resist my efforts. The only way you shall succeed in this is to essentially remove any trace of emotion from your consciousness. Is that understood?"

The girl nodded weakly and noticeably straightened her posture.

As he was quite gifted in the art of Legilimency, Severus knew he could have silently slipped into her mind without even the slightest swish of his wand. However, his desire to give her a few extra seconds to better prepare herself now had him raising his arms dramatically.

Hermione flinched as he powerfully articulated the incantation.

"_Legilimens_!"


	12. Journey into the Mind

**A/N: So just a word of warning - The school year has begun, and along with my full schedule I am a teaching assistant for two different courses and am doing a research project as well. I will be rather busy, so updates may be kind of slow. I apologize in advance, and will try to get new chapters up as soon as humanly possible.  
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**I love reading all of your reviews - sweet-tang-honney, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, HPFanGirl01, becknox71270, 83annak, Lover of Fantasy, and Glitter Poisoned My Blood!**

**Also, a shout out to PinguinProduktion who offered to make a youtube trailer for this fic! Check it out at YouTube and add /watch?v=1R6XusXnVPs to the web address!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 12  
><strong>

Beads of sweat rolled down her brow as Hermione tried to fight the barrage of images and emotions that Snape continuously pulled forward.

"Empty your mind!" he shouted as he spiraled through her visit to France the summer before her third year. He grimaced as he found himself facing more images of her smiling parents.

His command elicited a small whimper from the girl. She gritted her teeth, and her knuckles were white as she held on to the edge of her seat with a vice-like grip. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes as she realized how drastically she was failing. They had been at it for several hours - how long exactly, she did not know, but she assumed it must be nearing the noon hour.

The first few hours had proven quite unsuccessful. Severus had been able to snake his way through her mind completely unchecked. He could latch himself onto any of her current emotions and then exploit the memories associated with them. Her recent experiences had left several different sentiments imprinted upon her psyche - her sorrow for the loss of her parents, her terror of Lord Voldemort, as well as her determination to succeed in spite of it all. He had also stumbled upon her mixed feelings towards himself. She wanted to trust him, but fear was preventing her from doing so wholeheartedly.

There was something else he had seen that was puzzling him - a dark speck of her emotion hovered about him just out of reach. He had worked quite some time trying to expand it, noting that whenever he got close he could feel a strong sense of mistrust emanating from the tiny particle. Each time he attempted to grasp onto it though, it would simply vanish into a thin wisp of smoke between his fingers.

Within the past hour or so, however, she had somehow managed to cut him off from other specific areas. Snape could no longer explore the different lights in which she saw him, just as he was now unable to survey her reactions toward the Dark Lord. Her grief continued to dominate her senses and he was subjected to memory after memory of family gatherings and interactions in the Granger household. He was beginning to spew some statement to express his disgust when he noticed a new feeling rising to the forefront of her conscience.

_Agony_. Mentally he reached out to it and immediately found himself sucked into a raging fire. Several painful recollections danced about him in the flickering flames. In front of him was the night he would forever regret. He watched helplessly as Hermione writhed under the unyielding wand of Bellatrix Lestrange. His gut turned as the cackling, dark witch's face faded into his own impassive one. He felt a small twinkling of hope arise in the girl as she recognized her professor, and a lump formed in his throat as he saw the bright spot subsequently vanish into utter darkness as she twisted under his merciless stare.

Severus violently jerked his head away from that image and his eyes immediately focused on a new shadowy remembrance. Her screams were echoing above the roar of the fire as he watched his own wand slice into her flesh. He was standing with an unobstructed view of her face, and he could see the tears of betrayal dripping from her eyes in time with the blood trickling from her freshly cut wound.

An intense heat washed over him and he felt the sweat gathering on his forehead. He was standing in the center of the blaze, and thick black smoke was choking the atmosphere above him. A strong gust of searing hot air blasted up from the ground, hitting him squarely under the chin and forcing him to look upwards. He gasped as the darkness of the sky played backdrop to his worst atrocity of all. Shock and rage flowed through his body as he was forced to watch himself from her point of view. Not once during the ordeal had her gaze left his face. Snape could now see everything his countenance had conveyed to her. Her pleas were heartlessly dismissed by him, and where there should have been compassion in his eyes, she had only been shown anger. The view became hazy and unfocused as if hidden behind a shield of water.

_Tears. She had been crying_. His image once again cleared as the water drifted towards the edges of the field of view. Severus could hear her heartbeat pounding and felt a sting on his cheek as he watched himself raise his hand against the girl. He knew what was coming next, but was unable to pry his eyes away. Her blood-curdling scream pierced the air as he watched himself forcefully push into her body. Bile was rising in his throat as he witnessed firsthand the cold, uncaring sentiment held in his eyes as he tore into her. Utterly ashamed, he slammed his eyelids shut and dropped his chin to his chest. He opened his eyes, and drew in a breath of heat that scalded his throat.

Turning swiftly on his heel, he was suddenly peering into the Hospital wing at Hogwarts. His eyebrows wrinkled in brief confusion before his gaze finally locked onto Hermione's unmoving form on the bed. Stepping towards her, he could see that she was indeed awake, her eyes flicking about the room as her mental processes were working in overdrive. He leaned over her body to see her face contort itself in anger, then fear, and finally pain. Her mouth popped open in what he assumed was a silent scream, and he noticed her body twitch with slight muscle spasms.

_Aftershocks of the Cruciatis curse_, he realized. A glimmer of treachery surfaced in the pupils of her eyes and an agonizing shriek exploded from her lips. Severus stumbled backwards from the bed, narrowly avoiding a collision with her head as she suddenly flung herself into a seated position. His eyes widened as further screams poured from her shaking form.

Embers crackled beneath his feet as he tried to back out from her memory. He froze amidst the flames when he heard his own voice booming through the hiss of her fading screams.

_" Your flesh responds to my very commands... Any attempts to disobey me, and it will burn as it did this morning."_

Snape spun around once more to see himself cast the Legilimens spell upon Hermione. He grew dizzy as several images of their current session flew towards him from the flames, one after another - each depicting him ordering her to clear her emotions or empty her mind.

"_Disobey me, and it will burn..."_

Over and over again he bombarded her with commands - commands that she was currently unable to follow.

_"Disobey...and it will burn..."_

He suddenly understood the dark magic binding her to him was regarding her inability as defiance and, as such, was punishing her for it. The cursed mark he had placed upon her flesh was burning.

The dark fleck of emotion he had discovered earlier had returned much larger and was multiplying into several smaller specks that threaded through the fire of her mind. Snape expelled the air from his lungs and ran headlong into the blaze. All of her thoughts and feelings began to swirl around him in a colorful vortex, and Severus found himself launching backwards out of her mind into his own.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself momentarily on the edge of his desk. The heat of her pain had vanished, and the cool air of the dungeons sent a small shiver through his body. Remembering why he had withdrawn so suddenly from her consciousness, Snape immediately locked his gaze onto his student.

Hermione was violently shaking in the wooden seat, her pale skin drenched with perspiration. He could see her jaw was clenched tight, and her bottom lip was quivering as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Miss Granger, you need not clear your mind any longer," he stated, attempting to counteract his earlier demands. When it was obvious the pain had not subsided any, Severus swallowed heavily and grabbed a large jar from the shelf behind his desk. He quickly made his way to her and knelt down beside her chair.

"Hermione, you need to breathe."

She glanced at him suddenly, obviously taken aback by the sound of her first name coming from his lips. Upon a quick study of his face, noting the severity held in his eyes, Hermione nodded nervously and began steadily taking in small amounts of air.

Snape reached out to lift the bottom of her t-shirt, but froze as her eyes suddenly clouded over in utter terror. He could see all of her muscles tensing as she pulled away from him. Her breathing had become erratic and her body continued to tremble. He could not look at her without seeing an injured animal shirking away from its advancing predator.

He flattened out his extended hand, slowly moving it towards her. "I have no wish to harm you, Miss Granger."

"NO!" she screamed, lurching out of the chair and knocking it to the ground with great force.

Severus fell backwards onto his hands to avoid being hit by the piece of furniture. Alarm written upon his features, he stared in astonishment at the sudden ferocity pouring out from the girl. Her calm, clinical demeanor of the previous days had snapped, and he was finally facing the reaction he had been expecting from her.

"Don't touch me!" Angry tears were welling up beneath her fiery eyes. She held her pointer finger out towards him in a threatening manner.

He swallowed the small bubble of fear that had risen at the sight of her, and was immediately thankful he had yet to return to her wand to her. Had he done so, he was certain he would be dead by now - as would she.

Hermione flinched as he attempted to rise from the floor. "Stay where you are!"

Ignoring her demands, Snape rose to his full height and took one step towards her. He stopped, however, when his action caused her to stumble backwards into his desk in an effort to maintain the distance between them. He cringed when he heard the tinkling of glass as several flasks shattered against the stone floor.

"Miss Granger, your wound must be tended to - I must examine it."

"No!" She shook her head violently from side to side as she backed around behind his desk. "Stay away from me!"

"Are you attempting to give yourself a brain injury as well?" His nostrils flaring, Severus cut the distance between them in half. "I'm trying to help you, stupid girl!"

Hermione's eyes widened in rage. "I don't believe you! You're lying! You're nothing but a liar!"

Panic was emanating from her in waves as her gaze flicked about the room. Abruptly her eyes came to rest on something briefly before shifting back to his form.

Snape furled his brow as he watched her stand taller and chew on her lip. He saw her plan flash through his mind a split second before she acted. He stood back as she shot out from behind his desk, grabbed the knife he used to cut herbs, and spun around to face him wielding her weapon in front of her.

He raised his hands in surrender as she cautiously crept towards the door, never once removing her eyes from his form.

As soon as she reached the door, she sprinted out into the hallway, leaving the knife to clatter upon the ground behind her.

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

Minerva sighed as she dropped the quill to the desk and rubbed her temples. Her goal had been to have all of her lesson plans completed by the end of the day, but she was realizing it would take a miracle to achieve it. The day had just reached its halfway point, and she had only managed her way through the first and second years' courses.

She closed her eyelids and worked a crick out of her neck. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and reached for the teacup she had set aside earlier. She rose from her desk, crossed to the large window, and looked out upon the castle grounds.

The graying witch had just raised the porcelain cup to her lips when the door to her office slammed open, causing her to jump. The action resulted in hot tea dribbling down her robes and onto her hand. In a jerk reaction, she flung the dainty dish to the floor. As it smashed into several pieces, she furiously spun around, ready to tear into the only wizard she knew who could not be bothered to practice courtesy when entering her office.

"SEVERUS SNAPE! How DARE you - " she froze as she saw the expression on his face. He only allowed a glimmer of distress to show before returning to his usual calm appearance, but it was enough to concern her.

Remembering that he was supposed to be working with Hermione presently, her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "What did you do to her?"

"I -" he started, and then paused, taking in a deep breath. "I may have overestimated Miss Granger's emotional ability to handle the demands of -"

"I _knew_ this would happen! I_ told_ Albus she should not be left alone with you!" she interrupted. "The man won't bloody listen to reason!"

Snape cleared his throat, allowing himself a small smirk. "That has certainly been my experience."

McGonagall fixed him with a cautious glare, before demanding to know the girl's current whereabouts.

He raised his eyebrow. "I imagine she has fled to the safety of her tower."

Without so much as a word, the elder witch made her way to the door, roughly pushing into Severus's shoulder as she passed.

"She'll be needing this when you find her," he stated in a low voice while holding out a jar of salve. "It should work to eliminate the temporary pain caused by the curse."

Glowering at him, she hastily snatched the item from his hand. Minerva pulled open the door, and then briefly turned to glance at him.

"Mark my words, Severus," she declared firmly, "Break her, and I _will_ break you."

With that, she swiftly disappeared into the corridor. As the door clicked shut behind her, Snape sighed and dropped his gaze to the floor.

_I would ask for nothing less, Madam._

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><p>AN: _I initially meant to be much farther along in the story at this point, and this chapter was entirely unplanned. But now that's spewed out from somewhere, I couldn't bring myself to delete it, and I hope you are not too disappointed with it... I guess this story will just have to be that much longer.  
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	13. Supervised Visits

**A/N: I'm quite impressed with myself that I managed to get an update done in between everything. It's even quite long and filled with lots of Minerva!  
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**Thanks for all the positive reviews on the last chapter! Glitter Poisoned My Blood, sweet-tang-honney, cinnamin, Meepster08, 83annak, Zevus, Odile1001, tennis14321432, Lover of Fantasy, Dial595 escape, and becknox71270 are all awesome.  
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**Also, a shout out to PinguinProduktion who offered to make a youtube trailer for this fic! Check it out at YouTube and add /watch?v=1R6XusXnVPs to the web address!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 13  
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McGonagall hiked up her long robes as she stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. Her head snapped up as a weird yowling sound filled the air, and she noted a ginger-colored streak tearing down the stairs from the girls' dormitory.

The fluffy, snub-nosed cat darted around her ankles, gave her a commanding look, and then shot back up the steps. Immediately understanding the feline signal, Minerva quickened her pace through the room and hurried up the stairs behind the worried creature.

As she broke into the Prefects' room, she barely had time to catch her breath before she spotted the cat's cause for concern.

"Miss Granger," she panted, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

The large window in the room had been thrown open, and Hermione was now perched hazardously upon the ledge. Her body was perfectly still as she stared down at the green blur of the ground several hundred feet below. The day's strong breeze caused her frizzy curls to dance about her face, and she held out one hand flat so that the wind pushed against her palm. The only action she gave to acknowledge her Head of House's presence in the room was to slightly tilt her head to the side.

"Get down from there this instant!" Minerva bellowed, fear creaking into her voice.

Hermione sighed deeply, but after a few seconds' pause, spun on her heel and dropped back into the room.

The Gryffindor Head immediately grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her a safe distance from the window. "What were you thinking?"

The girl gave a small shake of her head, but said nothing as she stared at the floor.

"You could have fallen...and _died_." McGonagall gave a swish of her wand, and the window slammed shut. She turned her attention back to the young witch.

"Hermione, look at me." When the girl did not, Minerva placed her hand beneath the girl's jaw and pulled her chin up until their eyes met. Her voice was firm and her expression was as stern as it could be. "You are the smartest young woman I have ever had the privilege of knowing, let alone teaching. You have a gift, Hermione Granger - _do not_ throw that away. The world will need your help, and you must be there to answer the call."

Tears began to well up in Hermione's eyes, and she tried to look away, but McGonagall held her chin in place. After a few moments of examining the girl's face, the elder witch removed her hand and took a step back.

"There will be no more of _this_!" she exclaimed, waving her arm towards the window. Turning back to the girl, she raised her eyebrow sternly. "Is that understood?"

Hermione sniffled and nodded.

"Good," McGonagall stated with a tight nod. "Now if you would allow me, Miss Granger, I need to see your injury."

The young witch hesitated, but then turned and began to raise her shirt. She whimpered as the fabric brushed lightly against the wound.

Minerva placed a hand over her mouth and stifled the gasp that had come to her lips as she viewed the angry red signature carved into the tissue. "P-p-perhaps it would be best if you were to lie down."

Her lip quivering, Hermione nodded and gingerly climbed onto the bed, lying on her stomach.

McGonagall crossed over to her side, and cautiously sat upon the edge of the mattress, taking great care not to jostle the girl. She twisted open the jar she had been given and briefly stared at the orange substance inside. After taking a calming breath, she began to apply the cool salve to irritated skin.

Hermione hissed at the sudden cold feeling. Within a few seconds, however, she felt the tension easing out of her aching muscles and a calming, peaceful buzz replaced the searing pain that had built up over the course of the morning.

When the flesh had returned to its normal, creamy hue, Minerva gave a satisfied grunt and slid the salve jar into her robes. She conjured up a small hand towel and wiped away the excess ointment from her hands. She gave a concerned glance towards Hermione as a distressed sigh escaped from the girl's lips.

"He sent you, didn't he?"

Momentarily surprised by the emptiness in the girl's voice, McGonagall barely registered what was asked of her. "Hmmm?"

Exhaling loudly, Hermione twisted into a half-seated position and locked her watery eyes onto her professor's face. "_He_ sent you_. Snape_ sent you."

Minerva swallowed nervously before allowing a hesitant nod.

The girl sucked in a slow breath and squeezed her eyelids shut as a tear trickled down her cheek. Immediately she flung herself face down on the bed and pulled her knees close to her chest.

"Miss Granger," the witch's voice trailed off in a silent question.

A loud sob exploded from Hermione and her body was shaking as McGonagall placed a calming hand on her shoulder. The deputy headmistress said nothing, as she knew her student would speak when she was ready. A few tense moments passed before the meek voice bit through the tears.

"I - I was trying so - so hard," she quivered. "B-but I couldn't - I _can't _do it!"

A small, nervous smile attempted to tug at the corner of Minerva's pursed lips. "My dear girl, you mustn't be so hard on yourself. It was only your first try - surely even Severus wouldn't expect you to master the skill so soon."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I didn't mean that."

McGonagall frowned as she awaited an explanation.

Hermione stifled another sob. "I wanted to trust him, to forgive him...pretend it was some other Death Eater who - who did...But I can't! It was him - I know it was him! He did..did...to m-me..."

Minerva closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. Her lips were so tightly pressed together, they had turned white, and she searched her mind for the right thing to say. Before she could open her mouth to speak, the girl's shaky words continued.

"I feel like I'm going insane - losing control. He looks at me, and...and I just want to run...hide. Just disappear. He was - was in my head, and I couldn't take it anymore! Everything I was trying to do failed. I could f-feel him in-inside, and I had to get away. I w-wanted to k-kill him. I had his knife in my hand, and I wanted to stab him...over and over...and over again." Hermione buried her face in the crook of her arm. "I didn't care if I died - as long as he went first!"

The deputy headmistress gently ran her hand across the side of the girl's head. "Hush, Hermione. You're perfectly sane. The man instills those feelings in quite a lot of people - none of whom have gone through what you have. I myself have fancied running him through with a lance or trampling him with a hippogriff on numerous occasions. The desire is particularly strong during Quidditch season, I can assure you."

Hermione's sobs ceased, and she rolled over to look at her Head of House. Seeing the serious look upon the woman's face, she gave a small smirk and laughed under her breath.

"Hagrid would probably let you borrow Buckbeak," she said softly.

Relieved at seeing the twinkle return to the young witch's eye, Minerva wiped away some of the tears from the girl's face. She exhaled deeply and smiled. "There. That's much better."

Hermione blinked appreciatively, but soon a somber expression re-captured her countenance. She let her gaze drift down to the bed covers. "I was serious about what I said."

Placing her hand softly on Hermione's cheek, McGonagall nodded. "I know."

The young woman sighed and pulled herself into a seated position, without removing her eyes from the mattress.

"But I also know you, Hermione," the older witch continued. "The Sorting Hat did not go wrong with you. You have the courage and bravery of your House, and it will serve you well. You will overcome this."

Hermione swallowed, closing her eyes as she remembered Snape's explanation the day before. The color drained from her face, and she covered her mouth with her hands as a sick feeling washed over her. A few panicked gasps escaped from her mouth before she glanced up at her professor's face. She chewed on her lip as she felt tears welling up in her eyes. "You know what I have to d-do...what he has to..."

McGonagall cleared her throat and dipped her head. "Severus has... made us aware of the requirement, yes."

Shuddering, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, rocking slightly as she looked away. "I don't think I can...I can't do it."

Minerva abruptly pulled the girl's arms towards her, and held both hands in her own. When Hermione met her gaze, she gave a slight tug on the young witch's hands. "Things are sometimes asked of us that we should never have to do, but they must be done. You can do this, and you _will_ stand tall."

A deep breath left her body as Hermione nodded.

"Let's get you something to eat," the older woman stated. "You must be famished, and we need to get your strength up before tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Hermione questioned as her Head of House summoned a house elf from the kitchen.

"Yes," McGonagall answered. "You have been given the day to rest and compose yourself, but your lessons must continue."

**X x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x X**

The sound of sharp knocking on his office door caused Severus to halt scratching his quill mid-stroke. He glanced up at the clock, surprised to find the night had long since vanished into the morning hours.

"Enter," he barked. He wiped a hand over his tired face as the door creaked open.

"Good morning, Severus."

Snape groaned and dropped his shoulders as the deputy headmistress appeared in the doorway. "To what do I owe the pleasure, Minerva?"

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Miss Granger is here for her session."

He noticeably straightened his posture and rose to his feet as Hermione stepped out from behind the other woman.

"Miss Granger." He acknowledged her with a small dip of his head before glancing back at his colleague. "That does not, however, explain why _you_ are here."

A sly smirk quivered upon Minerva's lips. "I thought I might take the time to demonstrate the proper way to enter another's office, seeing as its quite obvious no one ever bothered to teach you."

His upper lip twitched at one corner, and he began rolling his eyes. He stopped, however, when he caught sight of Hermione staring at the floor, an amused expression upon her face. Severus shifted his stance. "Well, now that your mission is complete, Madam, I must ask you to leave."

Minerva held her head high and caught hold of Hermione's hand to give her a comforting squeeze. "And I, sir, must respectfully decline."

"Pardon?" Snape narrowed his eyes into a questioning glare.

"You heard me, Severus." McGonagall gently pulled Hermione in front of her and then placed her hands upon the girl's shoulders. "Until Miss Granger is comfortable enough to be alone with you, I feel it would be best for me to sit in on your private lessons."

His muscles tensed as he clenched his jaw. "They are _private_ lessons for a reason, Minerva. Surely the Headmaster would agree with me."

"If that's what you want to do - go on, then. Summon Albus," the witch pronounced, gesturing to the fireplace. "But I'm afraid it shall do no good. I've made my decision, and the both of you will just have to sod off!"

Snape coughed, clearly caught off-guard by the declaration, and Hermione stared wide-eyed at her Head Witch with her mouth open in shock.

Minerva winked at her favorite student and then gave an unyielding glance to the dark-robed wizard. She stepped over to the small, circular table in the corner of his office, crossed her arms, and sat down determinedly in one of the chairs. A stiff smile appeared on her face. "I am simply here to observe, Severus. You won't even know that I'm here."

_Bloody unlikely_, he thought with a roll of his eyes. He briefly considered putting up further protest, but knew it would be to no avail. He threw his hands up in the air and stepped around to the front of his desk.

"Take a seat, Miss Granger," he commanded, gesturing to the familiar wooden chair. At the sound of a throat clearing, he spun around and hissed. "What?"

McGonagall fixed him with a firm glance. "Perhaps Miss Granger would fare better on something less severe."

Severus sucked in a breath, staring at her incredulously. His gaze flicked quickly to Hermione who was staring at the strict piece of furniture with unease. He gave a quick nod and wordlessly transfigured the object into a cushioned armchair.

At his direction, Hermione stepped forward and plopped down in the seat. He glanced back at the deputy headmistress and raised his arms in a sweeping gesture. "Anything else I can do to appease the House of Gryffindor, or am I permitted to return to my task?"

Minerva did not try to hide her smile as she meticulously glanced about the office. "Well the room could certainly do with some cheering up, but I think we can save that for a later date. You may proceed."

"Fantastic," Severus muttered darkly as he spun to face Hermione. "I hope you are better prepared today."

The girl swallowed nervously and nodded. "I believe I am. I apolo-"

"You certainly do not!"

Hermione and Snape both turned their heads to see McGonagall glowering from her seat.

"Do _not_ apologize to that man, Hermione," she instructed. "You did _nothing_ wrong, and he knows that. If anyone is to blame, _he_ is. He should not have pushed you so hard, isn't that right Professor?"

His mouth popped open in complaint, but he quickly snapped it shut and returned his gaze to his student. "Yes, well - shall we begin?"

"Yes," Hermione whispered with a small nod. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes in an effort to calm her nerves. She was feeling much more in control of the situation than she had the previous day, which gave her the confidence to throw her eyelids open and meet the Potions Master's questioning look.

Snape breathed in deeply and then raised his wand arm. His voice was strong as he began, "Legilime-"

"Ahem," McGonagall interrupted, negating the spell.

The man quickly spun to face her, his wand still rigidly held in front of him and a murderous gleam shimmering in his eyes.

"It would do you well to remember patience in this exercise, Severus. Be careful of what you say...and _how_ you say it. You need to offer guidance, not commands."

As Snape continued to glare at her, Hermione shifted nervously in her seat and cast the deputy headmistress a pleading glance.

Minerva caught sight of her student's concern and waved it away. "Don't fret, Hermione. Professor Snape is more than capable of handling his emotions. His anger shall remain directed at me, and he will _not_ take it out on you."

Snape wrinkled his nose in distaste, realizing the woman's words were directed at him. He softened his features, however, and glanced at the girl out of the corner of his eye. He could feel her apprehension and fear radiating through his conscience. He smirked when Hermione began to mentally picture his patience snapping, resulting in him placing the Gryffindor Head under an Imperious Curse and banishing her to the bottom of the lake.

"As attractive as that suggestion is, Miss Granger - she's far too stubborn for that to work." He smiled wickedly as McGonagall glanced between the two of them in sudden confusion.

_"I doubt I could even Imperio her arse two centimeters from the chair."_ Hermione failed to stifle her laugh as his voice slid over her thoughts. She immediately shied her eyes away to the other side of the room when her headmistress's hawkish gaze suddenly fixed on her.

"We've wasted enough time today," Snape stated coolly. "Miss Granger, if you could please focus."

Hermione nodded and snapped back to attention.

Severus began to raise his wand again, and then stopped as he felt McGonagall's eyes boring through his form. He crossed his arms over his chest, sighing in irritation as he once again spun to face her. "Is there not something you should be doing, Madam?"

Minerva narrowed her eyes and gave a haughty snort as she summoned her unfinished lesson plans.


	14. Breakthrough

**A/N: A little Hermione/Snape exchange for those who asked! **

**Thanks for all of the lovely reviews - I so love reading them. I heart tennis14321432, Glitter Poisoned My Blood, McNasty4Slytherins, cinnamin, Glykera, HERMIONE SNAPE, librarianmum, Sisterhood, Kayleigh-FanfictionAddict-21, 83annak, BellasBeingBad, Lover of Fantasy, padfootsgrl79, Neqa'elis, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, circular-illumination, sweet-tang-honney, SeverussSillyGirl, ultimanoapte, and sezao1.  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 14  
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"Focus, Granger!" Snape articulated forcefully as he abruptly pulled out from her memories.

Hermione bit back the urge to cry, and sent a burning glare towards the dark-robed wizard.

They were already half way through their third session, and she felt as though she were showing no signs of improvement. The previous day's lesson had ended better than the first one, thought. She had been able to make it through the twelve-hour period without a major emotional breakdown and had only imagined the boorish professor being trampled by a hippogriff a half-dozen times.

McGonagall, on the other hand, had not fared quite so well with controlling her rage towards the Potions Master. Several verbal sparring matches had transpired between the two Heads of Houses, and the animosity came to a full boil shortly after the deputy headmistress had demanded another mid-afternoon break for the girl. When the two witches had later returned to his dungeon office, Severus had allowed Hermione to re-enter the room and had then slammed the door shut with a sneer, leaving Minerva in the hallway to curse the day he had ever been born. Spell after spell and hex after hex bounced off Snape's strong wards, and it was only after Hermione pleaded with the man did he sigh and woefully grant her re-admittance.

Nearly twenty-four hours had passed, and the elder witch had yet to stop glowering at the tall wizard.

"What the bleeding devil do you think she's attempting to do!" she shouted at him with a frown.

An icy expression appeared in Snape's eyes as he refused to even turn his head in her direction. Hermione, on the other hand, attempted half a smile as she sent an appreciative glance towards her favorite instructor.

"You need to focus, Miss Granger," Severus stated calmly, as if Minerva's outburst had never occurred. He raised his hands in warning, hissing, "Again!"

Hermione sighed, biting her lip and closing her eyes as she felt him penetrate her mental barriers once more. She had tried sweeping her emotions away - he had blown them right back in her face. She had tried building walls - he walked right through them as though he were Nearly Headless Nick or The Bloody Baron. She had tried turning off the flow of memories, but he had grabbed hold of the small trickle and expanded it into a raging flood. Everything she could think of doing had failed against his probing wand.

_Focus, focus, focus - it's all he says to do. That's all I've been doing! Focus on what? It doesn't bloody work!_

"Miss Granger, stop complaining and concentrate!"

"I AM!" she shouted without opening her eyes, her face fully flushed. All of the day's frustration that had welled up inside her was now pushing furiously to the top, striving madly to escape. Angrily, she sought out every inkling of his presence in her thoughts, enveloping them in the redness of her ire. With hardly a split second's pause, she felt herself mentally giving him a vigorous shove.

The sound of something heavy crashing against the wall filled the air, followed immediately by the tinkling of glass and a loud gasp.

Throwing her eyelids open, Hermione frantically glanced about the room. McGonagall had risen from her seat and now stood with a hand to her lips, a worried expression residing in her eyes. The girl narrowed her eyes in confusion as she followed the elder woman's gaze. When her eyes discovered the sight before her, she jumped and sucked in a shocked breath of air.

"Professor, are you a-alright?" she asked, taking a timid step out of her chair.

Snape, currently sporting a wide-eyed stare, was laying rather awkwardly against the wall of his office. A small shelving unit that had been filled with empty vials and flasks had cracked in half with the force of his body, and its contents had shattered all about the stunned professor. Quickly, his expression turned into a snarl, and he attempted to pull himself into a sitting position. Small shards of glass slipped off his robes, hitting the ground with a delicate crinkling sound, and Severus grimaced slightly as he touched the back of his head.

"That is _exactly_ why you need to control your emotions, Miss Granger," he stated in a tone surprisingly devoid of sarcasm. He calmly rose to his feet, brushed the remaining pieces of glass from his clothing, and met her eyes with a warning glance. "Try that with the Dark Lord, and it will be the last thing either of us do."

Astonished, Hermione stared at him with her mouth hanging open. "Y-you mean_ I_ did that?"

A brief glimmer of rage flashed in Snape's eyes before he exhaled loudly. "As difficult as it is to believe, I do not make a habit of flinging myself headfirst into stone walls."

A snort emanated from the far corner of the office, and the two turned to see a trace of mirth dancing upon Minerva's features. After examining both of their expressions, she gave a small nod and began gathering up her items. When she had everything bundled together in the crook of her arm, she turned to her student.

"Well, Hermione - it seems you have no further need of my presence. You appear to have a good handle on things."

**_"About bloody time."_**

Hermione blinked in surprise, ignoring Snape's mental comment. "Erm, okay?"

"I shall leave you to it, then. Good luck." McGonagall stepped towards the door. She paused briefly in the doorway before adding, "Oh, and Severus - should you be in need of assistance, you only need to ask."

Snape scowled and, with a wave of his wand, sent the door slamming violently shut behind the witch's backside.

"If I may, Professor," Hermione cautiously began speaking, wisely choosing not to comment on the small bout of laughter that had sounded beyond the door. "But exactly _how_ did I do that?"

Severus sighed, lightly touching his forehead as he stepped in the direction of his desk. "The mind is a complex organ and is exceptionally connected to one's magic. This is the reason why things can unwittingly occur when underage wizards are emotionally-stressed. Older, supposedly more experienced wizards can incur similar situations when they lose control of their emotions, as you just demonstrated. You wished desperately to extract me from your conscience and failed to curb your anger. Naturally, your magic obliged."

Her eyes glazed over in fascination as he explained it to her. _But I don't even have my wand! How have I never read about this?_

Snape rolled his eyes. "As you well know, a wand is not necessary for producing magic, Miss Granger - it is merely a vessel for concentrating and directing its power. As to your other question, I personally have found that the majority of people who take it upon themselves to write books are blithering idiots who either grossly misconstrue the information presented to them or simply resort to making it up."

Hermione had to shake away the image of Gilderoy Lockhart that appeared in her head. How she could have ever fallen for a fraud as big as he had been was still a mystery to her. _ I can't believe I actually sent him a valentine._

A sneer exuding violent disgust immediately appeared upon Severus's face. "If you're quite done wasting my time with your reminiscence, Miss Granger, we have work to do. You are nowhere near ready to utilize Occlumency and will not be so until you can learn to properly focus!"

Her eyes narrowed as she expelled an irritated breath. "I'm trying!"

"Yes, well, there comes a time when trying is simply not good enough. You need to _do_, not try."

"Well, maybe I can't!" she shouted, crossing her arms against her chest.

Severus straightened to his full height and stepped menacingly towards her. "_Can't_? The infamous Gryffindor know-it-all is admitting to failure? And here I thought I would never live to see the day."

Hermione frowned, her hands beginning to shake. "Perhaps you should just go ahead and take the credit for my failures, then, Professor! Merlin knows you've been waiting to do so since I first walked in to your classroom!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" he jeered, quickly removing all space between them and towering over her.

She shivered slightly at his sudden closeness, but did not try to pull away. Instead, she threw her head back so she could glare pointedly at his face. "Don't insult me by pretending to deny it, sir! You've wasted no effort in criticizing everything I've ever done!"

A nasty smirk spread upon his face. "Miss Granger, you have me at a loss. I'm not sure which is more obnoxious - your insolence or your ignorance."

"_My_ ignorance!" Her eyes burned with a fiery light as she scoffed, "_I'm_ the ignorant one?"

Without giving him time to fire off a retort, Hermione audaciously donned a tone of voice similar to his. "I can see your thoughts and feelings. I can manipulate your very expressions. You will be unable to speak or act against me."

His smirk had all but vanished as he recognized his own words coming from her mouth.

"Or had you forgotten, Professor?" she asked accusingly, her voice returning to a normal, if somewhat elevated state. "Because _I_ certainly remember! I'm bound to you - as Voldemort so merrily stated, my mind bears your mark. Explain to me_, sir_, just exactly how I am to resist your intrusions if I am incapable of acting against you!"

Snape blinked rapidly several times before stepping away from her. As he neared his desk, he nervously ran a hand through his greasy hair. After a few moments of what she surmised was deep thought, he turned back to her. He met her eyes only briefly and then dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Perhaps I should have chosen my words more carefully, Miss Granger." A few seconds passed in silence before he spoke again. "You are only unable to say or do things if I do not want you to say or do them. Seeing as I do not wish to die because you cannot shield your thoughts from the Dark Lord, it would be reasonable to assume I want you to be successful in your attempts at Occlumency. As such, it would seem the responsibility for your inadequacies lies solely with you."

Hermione exhaled loudly in irritation as she threw her hands up in the air. "But your connection to my mind -"

"As I mentioned earlier, Miss Granger," Severus cut her off in a disturbingly calm voice, "the mind is extraordinarily complex. There are an astronomical number of layers within your head - only a few of which did I claim during the binding process. I have only allowed myself to see your current mental status and I am only able to influence your present actions. Without using Legilimency, I am thus unable to witness anything more than your infuriating, trivial, and incessant mental monologues."

Her nostrils flared as she shifted her weight. Re-crossing her arms, she angrily spat, "Well if you're so bloody brilliant at Occlumency, why don't you just shut me out?"

His eyebrows gathered together in exasperation. "The connection between our minds is highly intricate - I cannot merely _'shut you out_.' If I could, believe me, I would have done so by now."

Hermione had to quickly bite back the urge to scream in his face. Within a matter of seconds, however, a wicked smile slowly spread upon her face. "Well, seeing as I had absolutely no say in the matter, you were the only one to establish the link between my consciousness and yours. As such, it would seem the responsibility for your inadequacies lies solely with you."

A warm satisfaction swelled through her body as she watched his jaws immediately slam together. His hands had clenched into tight fists, and his eyes were darker than she had ever remembered them being. She could see his lips quivering with all the angry, hateful things he desperately wished to shout at her, though, for now, he remained silent.

While she watched him presumably struggling to conquer his fury, she found her mind was suddenly reeling. _' The mind is a complex organ and is exceptionally connected to one's magic...You wished desperately to extract me from your conscience and failed to curb your anger. Naturally, your magic obliged.'_

Her mouth opened slightly as she considered a new line of thinking. _What if I've been going about this the wrong way? What if I don't need to clear away my emotion, but instead need to concentrate and direct them? I just need to focus them. Like a wand almost._

As though the proverbial light bulb had gone off over her head, Hermione could not even attempt to hide the smile that exploded onto her countenance.

Severus watched her cautiously, glancing apprehensively at the clock. "Perhaps we should retire until after supper."

"No!" Hermione shouted excitedly. She determinedly stepped back to the chair and plopped into it. "We keep going."

"Miss Granger -" he began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Unless you require a moment to compose yourself, sir," she challenged.

Snape dropped his head to the side in an attempt to hide the grin he was now wearing. He cleared his throat loudly and then raised his wand.

**X x x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x x x X**

Nearly an hour later, Severus watched Hermione fail to stifle a laugh as he withdrew from her mind. In order to prove it was not a fluke occurrence, he wordlessly plunged back into her consciousness. Again, he found himself standing in the midst of a vast expanse of darkness. There was nothing for him to grasp onto, nothing for him to see. Not a whisper of sound could be heard, nor was there even a hint of wind to flutter his hair or the edges of his robes. It was simply empty.

As he cancelled the Legilimens incantation and spiraled back to his dungeon office, he realized the girl was watching him expectantly. He shrugged as he returned his verdict.

"Well, Miss Granger - it does appear that you have been successful at last."

Hermione was beaming as she let out a huge sigh of content. As she began to wiggle excitedly in the chair, Snape rolled his eyes.

"Before you begin a celebratory dance, bear in mind that this is only the first step. We still have a long journey ahead of us, and only a week of privacy left."

_A week._ She grimaced as reality came crashing down upon her. There was only a week left until she would have to put everything out of mind long enough to sit her classes and execute her duties as a Hogwarts prefect. In a week, she would once again be surrounded by her friends. _ Oh, Merlin! Harry and Ron - how am I going to explain all of this?_

Severus cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. "You shall not speak of anything that has occurred within these last two weeks with anyone outside of those who already know."

"But they're my friends," Hermione pleaded. "I can't lie to them."

"You can, and you _will_, Miss Granger," he countered. "We cannot trust the connection between Potter's mind and the Dark Lord. He cannot know."

After a few moments, she gave a resigned sigh and painfully nodded.

"Good," he stated as he made his way to his desk chair. After sitting down and pulling out a weathered notebook, he glanced back at her. His eyes narrowed, and he then opened a drawer. Pulling out a sleek vial of dark purple liquid, he rolled it twice in his fingers before handing it across the desk.

Hermione stood from her chair and took it from him. She glanced at the label bearing his neat scrawl.

**_Dreamless Sleep_**

At her questioning glance, Snape sighed. "The remainder of your training shall be an exhausting process and you have yet to sleep through the night. While Occlumency will continue to mentally drain you, the rest of your lessons shall tax you physically. You will need to be well-rested if you are to make use of our time. The Dreamless Sleep potion should be treated with great caution, but I trust you know to use it sparingly?"

She nodded, wrapping her fingers protectively around the glass container. She tilted her head as she asked, "Rest of my lessons?"

Severus bit his lip briefly as he picked up a quill and started scratching words onto a clean page in the notebook. "The headmaster has asked that I see to improving your self-defense skills."

"Oh," Hermione wrinkled her brow. "Well Harry did have us working on that last year."

"Ah, yes," he grunted without so much as a pause in his quillwork. "The ill-planned Dumbledore's Army. I can only imagine the plethora of knowledge you had bestowed upon you. Potter wouldn't know how to fight his way out of a wet paper sack."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's a much better fighter than you give him credit for, and he was more than adequate as a teacher."

"More than adequate?" Snape snorted, halting his scrawl as he studied her face. She could tell a smirk was playing at the corners of his mouth. "Unfortunately I believe even your mediocre assessment of Potter's lessons is exceptionally high praise. We all saw where it ended up - you and your pathetic little army were captured by Death Eaters before you could even say Expecto Patronum. Merlin only knows what would have happened if the Order hadn't showed up to rescue your sorry lot."

"I knew it!" Hermione whispered, absent-mindedly rubbing her chest where she knew the thin, jagged scar began. She shuddered slightly, remembering the vile taste of all the potions she had to take because of it. "It was you, wasn't it? You were the one who alerted the Order, weren't you? You told them where we were."

Severus gave no verbal response, but gazed at her pointedly before returning to his notebook.

"I knew it," she said softly, glancing down at the vial in her hands. Suddenly she shifted nervously on her feet and chewed on her lip. "Erm, Professor?"

"Yes?" he questioned without lifting his head.

Hermione sighed, searching for the best way to phrase her question. "When do we have to - I mean, when do the bonds have to be renewed?"

The wizard stopped writing, but did not raise his eyes any higher than the edge of the desk. "That is not for me to say."

He paused, but before she could raise the next obvious question, he continued. "The...frequency of renewal is not an exact science. It relies on a number of factors - namely the gradual weakening of the curse, but it also takes into account my...sexual desires...as well as your own...arousal." He closed his eyes in obvious discomfort. "In any case, you will be the one to know when it is necessary."

"Oh." She was suddenly extremely grateful to not have to meet his gaze as she was quite sure she had turned pink with embarrassment from head to toe. After a few minutes of silence, she ventured to speak again. "Sir?"

This time he only gave a grunt of acknowledgement.

"I was just wondering - you see, I don't have my wand. I searched through all of my things that were placed in my room, but it's not there. Would you happen to know where it -" She trailed off as he fixed her with a scrutinizing stare.

As if somewhat satisfied with what he saw, Snape leaned back in his chair to pull out the middle drawer of his desk. He held out the slender vine wand, but surreptitiously pulled it back when she made to take it.

"You may have it back on one condition, Miss Granger."

"And that is?" she asked, impatience creeping into her tone.

He waited until she had locked eyes with him. "There will be no more suicidal thoughts or tendencies. I refuse to die just because you allow your teenage angst to run unchecked. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she whispered.

When he was sure she was genuine with her response, he pushed the wand into her outstretched hand.

"One more question, sir."

Severus gave a half-humored sigh. "You and I both know, Miss Granger, that it is never just one more question with you."

Hermione gave a sly smile and ducked her head.

"Go ahead," he instructed, waving his hand.

"Well, as you know, Professor - classes start in a week and I never made it to Diagon Alley before...before... anyway, the point is I don't have any of my books or supplies, so -"

He nodded, interrupting her. "It will be seen to."

"Thank you," she said while heaving a large sigh of relief. She made her way to the door, and looked back at him, dutifully scribbling in his book. "Good night, Professor."

As the door clicked shut behind her, Severus raised his eyes from his desk and sighed.

"Good night, Miss Granger."


	15. Torturous Thoughts

**A/N: So so sorry for the delay! School is so busy, and there are only so many hours in the day. Life goes by so fast these days, and it doesn't help that I have about seven story ideas floating around in my head. If only I could automatically send it from my brain to the computer and have it all typed up for me. **

**I appreciate all of your continued reviews! And I'm super-excited to see triple digits in the Favorites!**

**Thank you to Midnightawakeonyou, Lover of Fantasy, Sisterhood, 83annak, Glitter Poisoned My Blood, JaneA0202, cinnamin, Odile1001, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, sezao1, tennis14321432, Infrena, P3, TakumaAngel, Phoenixica24, decembersonnet, and ultimanoapte!**

**Keep leaving reviews - it guilts me into setting some of my study time aside for writing a new chapter!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 15  
><strong>

Severus sat in his leather armchair is if in a trance, silently staring into the fireplace. The flames crackled and jumped, reflecting brightly off the amber-colored liquid in his glass. How long he had stayed in this position and the hour of the night were only two of the things for which he possessed no answer. The clock on his mantel began to sound, but if asked, he would be unable to tell anyone the number of times it struck its low chimes.

What he would be able to recount later, however, were the words to the olden lullaby that Hermione had been whisper-singing to herself, off and on, since she had retired to her bedroom hours earlier.

_"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,__  
><em>Too-ra-loo-ra-li,<em>  
><em>Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,<em>  
><em>Hush, now don't you cry!"<em>_

Snape sucked in a pained breath of air and closed his eyes. He could tell she was crying from the way the tears interrupted her words. She had been thinking of her mother, and his head was filled with all the images Hermione was currently revisiting.

He watched as she remembered her mother rocking her to sleep as a young child, softly singing the very lullaby Hermione was now whispering as she choked on tears. Another memory surfaced - a slightly older Hermione had fallen off her bicycle and was sitting in the gravel drive, sniffling fearfully as she watched the blood seeping from her knee. Her mother appeared instantaneously, scooping the girl up and carrying her into the kitchen where she quickly set to work healing both the girl's injured knee and wounded pride. A still later recollection placed Hermione on Platform 9-3/4 for the first time, her arms wrapped tightly around her mother's waist as her mother glanced down at her. A proud and happy smile was plastered on the woman's face, but it was not difficult to see the sadness in her eyes as she tearfully kissed her daughter good-bye.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed as though every comforting word her mother had ever spoken - every phrase of encouragement, every spot of praise, every 'I love you' - were reverberating about his skull, accompanied by the haunting tone of Hermione's voice.

_"...Just a simple ditty,  
>In her good old Irish way,<br>And I'd give the world if she could sing,  
>That song to me this day..."<em>

Rubbing the tension from his forehead, Snape could not help but compare her memories to the ones he had of his own mother. A small pang of jealousy suddenly materialized in his gut as he realized Jean Granger possessed more compassion in her left pinky finger than Eileen Prince had ever shown in her entire life. He could never remember his mother holding him as a child, and his own departures for Hogwarts had always been rather unemotional. He could not recall if his mother had ever even given him a farewell message before she brusquely pushing him in the direction of the train-cars. And he was fairly certain, had he ever been blessed enough to receive a bicycle from either of his parents and had fallen from it, that he would have been left in the driveway to console himself before having to steel his nerves as he faced his father's violent rant over his carelessness.

"No," he whispered in a hiss, as he tried to shut out the flood of images that had been his childhood. He nervously ran a hand through his greasy hair. She was getting to him - stirring feelings in him that he had walled off decades prior. He could not let her do that to him. He needed to remain strong. He needed to remain in control.

Shakily, Severus raised the heavy glass tumbler to his lips and quickly downed the cool liquid. As the firewhiskey burned its way down his throat, he angrily cast the glass into the fireplace. It did little, however, to relieve his aggravation as he watched it shatter against the stone and fall into the flames.

He glanced at the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey beside him and sighed heavily. Alcohol, even in excessive amounts, was not going to be strong enough to keep Hermione from eating away at his resolve.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, pushing out of his chair and crossing to the fireplace. He placed his elbows upon the mantel and rested his head in his hands. He needed to find a way to block her from his conscience if he hoped to retain any sanity in the matter.

_'Well if you're so bloody brilliant at Occlumency, why don't you just shut me out?'_

He gave a half-amused snort as Hermione's earlier challenge floated back to him.

_'The connection between our minds is highly intricate - I cannot merely 'shut you out.' If I could, believe me, I would have done so by now.'_

Snape shook his head in frustration. In no stretch of the imagination had he lied to her about that. He had attempted several times over the past few days to use Occlumency techniques in an effort to remove her thoughts from his mind. It had been to no avail, however, as every attempt had ended in utter failure. Her feelings still freely streamed across his psyche.

After contemplating how he could possibly use Occlumency to solve their problem, Severus let his mind wander back to something else that had been weighing on his intellect. There were only a handful of documented approaches to successfully becoming an Occlumens, each of which he had mastered over the years. Hermione had somehow managed to achieve the desired result without using any of those methods. She had found her own way of doing it - a way that he did not entirely understand.

He felt another small twinge of jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but it was soon overcome by a deepening sense of admiration. Hermione was only a few years younger than he had been when he first developed his skills of Occlumency, but she had seemingly given the entire history of the art a complete run-around and had re-written the rules to better suit her needs and abilities.

_In stark contrast to the image you've always had of her - the bushy-haired know-it-all who shows no talent outside of regurgitating textbooks. _Severus sighed, realizing he could not have been more wrong about the young Gryffindor girl. Clearly, she was the brightest witch of her age. Even Harry Potter - the supposed 'Chosen One' - did not show even a fraction of the promise Hermione Granger had shown him in the last week.

A minute or two passed before Severus became aware of the blaring silence about him. There was no voice flowing across his thoughts; there were no outside memories taunting him. Beyond his own contemplations there was only a quiet darkness. A small inkling of alarm crept into his chest, but one glance at the clock effectively stifled the concern.

It was nearly quarter to one in the morning, and he mentally chided himself for letting the girl stay up so late. Snape gave a small snort and rolled his eyes. _What would you have done? Break into her consciousness and demand she go to bed as if she were a small child? She would have had to follow the command, of course..._

He gave an exasperated groan as he shook the thought from his head. She did not need him excessively forcing instructions upon her - that was certain. What she did need, however, was rest. Without it, there would be little hopes of improving upon her Occlumency skills. It was of little importance that she had not gone to sleep sooner - what mattered was that she had at all. When no dreams of hers floated into his mind's eye, he surmised she had opted for the use of the Dreamless Sleep draught. He gave a relieved sigh as he began calculating its effect.

_At her height and weight, a half-vial should give at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Given the fact she hasn't been eating much...it could have a stronger effect__._ Snape shrugged as he reasoned Hermione would rise no sooner than nine or ten in the morning. It was later than he would have wanted to resume their lessons, but he would live with it. It was much more important that she be well-rested.

Sighing, Severus wiped his face with his hands and stepped away from the fireplace. He walked back towards his chair and extended his arm towards the small table beside it. His hand hovered briefly over the bottle of firewhiskey, but then quickly moved to snatch the worn leather journal that rested alongside it.

Exhaling loudly, he returned to his seat and calmly leafed through the pages until he found the desired entry. He cleared his throat and leaned back against the wing of the chair as he re-read the detailed notes he had taken earlier that day after Hermione had managed to evade his Legilimency spell.

_Hopefully__,_ he prayed_, __it will be enough._

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Several floors above him, in the girls' dormitory of Gryffindor Tower, Hermione was definitely not asleep as Snape had so understandably assumed. The silencing of their mental connection had less to do with her taking a sleep-inducing potion, and more to do with the sudden, overwhelming sense of doubt that had begun to creep into her mind.

Crookshanks looked on with interest as Hermione sat on her bed, rocking back and forth with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her mind kept going back to the conversation between herself and Professor McGonagall that had taken place days earlier.

_A spark popped in the fireplace. As a sickening thought struck Hermione, she glanced up anxiously at the woman beside her. "Do you think Professor Snape -"_

_"Absolutely not," McGonagall answered immediately. _

The deputy headmistress had seemed so sure of her response, but this did little to quell the nagging suspicion now spiraling through Hermione's thoughts.

_McGonagall sighed, shaking her head. "As deplorable as Professor Snape's actions and behavior were last night, he would not do anything that was not necessary to maintain his position in You-know-who's ranks."_

_Hermione's face twisted into a fearful grimace. "And what if Voldemort ordered him to kill them!"_

_McGonagall rose from her seat, and paced over to the bookshelf, wringing her hands. "As far as I have been told, Professor Snape was summoned directly to the gathering, and returned with you immediately following."_

Hermione tilted her back to stare at the ceiling, and then closed her eyes. Snape may have returned right away, but he had not remained on the grounds of Hogwarts. He had been to her house sometime following her abduction - she was sure of it.

While at home, she would store her wand in the hidden compartment of the desk in her room. She did this to keep it safe and out of the hands of the neighbour children that she had babysat occasionally throughout the summer. When she had run from the house and her parents, she had not taken the time to go back upstairs and retrieve it. She had left her wand behind, and yet somehow, Professor Snape had come to have it in his possession.

_And Crooks._ The cat seemed to widen his eyes in surprise as she suddenly locked her gaze onto his form.

"He brought you here, didn't he?" Her voice was slightly frantic as she watched the cat settle back into his usual indifferent state.

"I know he did," she stated pointedly, as if challenging her fluffy familiar to disagree with her. She had noticed the red marks on the professor's hand and arm the morning she had eaten breakfast at his desk. Crookshanks had been a part of her life long enough that she could easily identify a cat scratch from a short distance away.

_Granted, there are other cats around,_ she admitted begrudgingly. After spending time watching Professor McGonagall interact with the Potions Master, Hermione would not put it too far past the deputy headmistress to sic her feline companion on the brooding wizard.

Nonetheless, there had been other evidence to support her theory. Snape's travelling cloak had been hung on the hook that was on the back of his office door. When she had returned from her break on the afternoon Snape had slammed the door in McGonagall's face, the cloak had billowed out to brush against Hermione's cheek. It was then that she had seen them - the thin, ginger-colored hairs sticking out from the black wool. They were seemingly identical to the annoying hairs she always so desperately tried to remove from her own sweaters and skirts. Magic, apparently, had produced little help in the ways of de-furring clothing.

What had cemented the idea into her head, however, had been Snape's own behavior. He had caught her staring at the raised, red scratches on the back of his wrist, but his reaction had been slightly surprising. Instead of snapping at her for being rude, as she would have expected, he had immediately dropped his fork to the plate and pulled his arm away in an effort to hide the marks. He had then started the lesson so quickly that neither of them had the chance to finish their breakfast. She could only assume that he had been trying to distract her. To his credit, it had worked - for a while, at least.

Hermione glanced over at her wardrobe, and then at the trunks that were stacked beside it. If Snape had brought her wand and familiar to the castle, he must have also been the one to bring all of her personal stuff. It was more than strange to think that Professor Snape had not only been in her house, but had been in her room. He had touched all of her things, and packed them all away. She did not know whether to laugh or cry at the thought of the Potions Master going through her underwear drawer.

Any thoughts of privacy violation, however, paled in comparison to the other thoughts and questions swirling through her conscience. She had no idea as to when or even how her parents had died, and the uncertainty sickened her as much as the knowledge that they were gone. Had the Death Eaters gone to the house first, looking for her? Could Snape have been there when they died? Could he have been one of those Death Eaters that had attacked her in the clearing? They were virtually indistinguishable from each other when hiding behind their cloaks and masks. McGonagall had claimed that he had been beckoned directly to the meeting, but what if she was mistaken? For all they knew, he could have been there.

It was possible that her parents had already been dead when Snape had arrived at her house. She prayed that this had been the case, but she could not shake the horrible, sinking feeling that he could be responsible for taking them from her.

Hermione had enough faith in the man to trust he would not have killed them for sport as so many of his dark colleagues would have done. On the other hand, Snape was a spy who had managed to avoid suspicion for an extraordinary length of time. He would do what he had to do in order to keep himself alive. There was no doubt in her mind that he had not only witnessed, but also participated in a heart-wrenching number of atrocities. He seemed to not even flinch at being told to rape and torture her, and she was his student_. She_ was someone he had watched over and protected for five years - what were her parents to him?

_Nothing, just a couple of Muggles_. Snape had made no efforts to hide his disdain for muggle ways - surely he would have no qualms about ridding the world of the two of them if the Dark Lord had asked him to do so. Refusal, at any rate, would likely have meant death for the Order's spy, and Snape was not the least bit prepared to die. He himself had already told her as much several times that week.

_And what if he had killed them?_ Hermione nervously chewed on her lip as she contemplated the disturbing question. She knew with high certainty that she could, with time, find it in her heart to forgive him for what had been done to her, but if he had killed her parents as well, she was not sure that would still ring true. She had no idea as to whether or not she could live with the fact she was bound to her parents' murderer.

A panicked gasp escaped her lips as she further expounded upon that thought. Their futures were linked - Snape's and hers. Even if - _when_, she corrected herself - Voldemort was defeated, she would still be facing a life devoid of any prospects that did not involve the surly wizard. While Snape would likely provide for her - hopefully, at any rate - she would be physically incapable of being in a loving relationship. Children had always been in her future planning, but now her only means of having them lie with her Potions Master.

Hermione shuddered as she questioned whether she could continuously submit herself to the man if she were to discover he had been responsible for her parents' deaths. It was painfully difficult to even consider giving the rest of her life to Professor Snape, even if he had not been involved in their demise.

_The rest of my life._ She closed her eyes, remembering the promise she had made to him several hours earlier. Would she be able to keep her word if she found the worst to be true? In the past few years, Hermione had come to realize that life was simply a choice - one could choose to end it just as easily as one could choose to live it. If her worst fears were ever to be realized, and she were facing a life filled with emotional torture - the decision between the two was likely to be alarmingly easy to make.

_Or would it?_ Snape's life was now attached to hers. If she were to die, so would he. Hermione knew that, in the situation, she would be capable of taking her own life - but could she take his? A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized she would likely always be adverse to the idea of willingly causing anyone's death.

Hermione expelled a long puff of air and shakily ran a hand through her unruly hair as she stretched out her legs. She could not keep thinking like this if she were to keep any sanity about her. She needed to remain strong. She needed to remain in control.

She reached a hand out and began gently stroking Crookshanks. As her action elicited a throaty purr from the feline, she sighed. "I can't condemn him, Crooks."

The cat narrowed his eyes as she spoke, but repositioned himself so he could nuzzle her hand.

The hint of a smile appeared at the corner of her lips as she stared down at her familiar. "There's good in him - there has to be. He brought me you, after all. And as much as he quarrels with Professor McGonagall, he did send her to talk me down from the ledge... He gave me my wand back... He let me ask so many questions, and he even answered them."

Crookshanks blinked as if he knew she was speaking more for her own benefit than for his. Raising up from the mattress, he stretched and then slowly clambered into her lap. He pushed his head forcefully against her chest, and then curled up between her legs.

She gave one soft chuckle as she understood what her familiar was trying to say. "Time to go to bed, huh?"

"You're right," she admitted as she glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was nearly three in the morning, and she knew her current mental status would prevent any restful sleep from coming to her. As such, she reached for the small vial that she had placed in the drawer of her nightstand earlier that evening. As her eyes fixed upon the calligraphic handwriting upon the label, she could not help but remember the concerned scrutiny in Snape's eyes before he had given her the potion.

"He cared," she whispered as she removed the glass stopper. She placed the vial to her lips and tilted her head back. As the purple liquid slid down her throat, she was surprised by the light, flowery taste. When she had consumed nearly half the vial's contents, she replaced the stopper and dropped the container back into the drawer.

She laid back against her pillows, and as a soft haze began to overtake her vision, she began to realize that Severus Snape was not the cold-hearted bastard that everyone - her friends, especially - believed him to be.

_Hopefully_, she prayed, _it will be enough._

* * *

><p>AN: If there seem to be discrepancies between their individual accounts, it was intentional - I think. Guess you'll just have to trust me. And if there are other errors, I apologize - I wanted to get this up quickly.

The lullaby mentioned in this chapter, "Too-Ra-Loo-Ra-Loo-Ral" is a classic Irish song, which was composed by James Royce Shannon in 1914. It became more popular when it was recorded by Bing Crosby in the mid-1940s.


	16. Waiting is the Worst Part

**A/N: Apologies for the long wait again. I'm feeling quite like Hermione these days...in desperate need of a time-turner. But I did manage to give you the longest chapter yet. I hope that counts for something.**

**I loved reading your reviews! Thanks to 83annak, frecklysnape, Mel, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Lover of Fantasy, Odile1001, cinnamin, Sic Vita Est, Fifinella, Sisterhood, Infrena, TheWarriorQueen, and the anonymous posters!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 16  
><strong>

The bright sunlight of midday streamed in through the windows of the girls' dormitory as Hermione's eyes finally fluttered open. Every muscle in her body begged to stretched, and as she so obliged, she could not fight the smile that spread upon her lips. Sighing in satisfaction as the tension seemed to melt away, Hermione wiped the remnants of sleep from the corner of her eyes and tried to focus her attention on the odd sensation she was presently experiencing. It was as if every fiber of her essence was pulsating with some strange, new energy, and her brain was seemingly incapable of deducing its causation.

As yawning was an expectation after rousing from sleep, Hermione widely opened her mouth. When her body did not seize upon the chance to draw in a large gulp of air, Hermione frowned and snapped her mouth shut. It was not making any sense to her - every morning proceeded the same way. She would wake up somewhat grumpily, with a desperate desire to crawl back under the covers and not discover the light of day for several more hours. As that was never feasible, she would finally convince herself to climb out of bed and would spend the first half a dozen or so minutes in a resounding chorus of yawns. It happened so regularly that Lavender had once claimed the ability to identify her just by the back of her throat. At the time, Hermione had been slightly hurt - whether the remark had been made in offense or simply jest, she had never been sure - but now she could not help but grin at the memory. What made it more humorous was that it was probably the funniest comment poor Lavender Brown had ever made.

After several minutes of half-coherent musings on yawns and roommates, realization finally began to cast its rays on Hermione's mind. She shook her head at the utter daftness she had just portrayed. The "strange, new energy" was just that - energy. She did not desire sleep for she was not the least bit tired.

_The Dreamless Sleep potion certainly worked...the Dreamless Sleep potion that Professor Snape gave me...Professor Snape...Bloody hell_! Eyes wide with panic, Hermione spun her head to glance at her bedside clock. There were only a few minutes left before noon. She had slept through the entire morning.

_Bollocks!_ Without a further thought, Hermione launched herself out of bed and hurriedly scrambled through her wardrobe. Grabbing the first pair of jeans and top she found, she quickly dressed herself for the day before racing off in the direction of the lavatory. After completing her 'morning' rituals in record time, Hermione was soon careening wildly down one of the many staircases.

One wrong step would have sent her flying, flipping head over heels down the stone steps, but she paid little thought to this. Instead, she was quite focused on the wrathful glare and biting comments she was sure to receive from the Potions Master when she would burst through his office door, hours late. Their uninterrupted time was limited, and here she was wasting it on a lie-in.

A string of curse words floated about her mind as one foot touched down onto the floor of the front entrance hall. She was in the process of pivoting around to descend the next flight of stairs when movement in the corner of eye brought her to an abrupt halt. Hermione curiously glanced out the window, and a strange lump rose in her throat.

The dark figure swiftly retreating from the castle grounds was quite familiar to her.

Nervously, Hermione hurried past the stone arches and into the courtyard.

"Professor, wait!" she shouted in the direction of the man's backside. Snape did not stop, however. He did not even seem to acknowledge her presence. "I'm sorry, sir! I didn't mean to -"

"Oh, Miss Granger!"

Hermione stopped in her tracks as the soft voice gently called out her name. With one last glance at Snape's withdrawing form, she turned around to see the Headmaster and his deputy headmistress standing in the archway. The elder wizard was holding out his hand, encouraging her to return to the castle, while McGonagall glanced over his shoulder in concern.

The girl sighed, hanging her head low as she slowly made her way to them. "I was _supposed_ to meet him hours ago, but...well, I just woke up. I didn't _mean_ to sleep so long, but Professor Snape had given me a potion, and -"

"My dear girl," Dumbledore interrupted, a kind shimmer in his eyes. "Rest assured, Severus shall not hold any of that against you. In fact, I believe he has been quite concerned over your sleeping habits as of late. He, more than likely, will be relieved to see you so well-rested."

Hermione glanced at him with uncertainty as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and guided her into the building. "But, sir - what of my lesson?"

Dumbledore gave a tight smile and patted her arm. "Regrettably, Professor Snape has unexpectedly been called away on business -"

A concerned gasp caused Hermione to glance over at her Head of House, and she could see the alarm upon the witch's face as McGonagall looked out upon the grounds in the direction in which the Potions Master had disappeared.

"-but he asked if I might spend some time working with you this afternoon." Dumbledore continued on, unfazed by his subordinate's sudden outburst. "I must admit, Miss Granger, I am decidedly eager to witness for myself the most recently-discovered of your many talents."

As he began to usher Hermione in the direction of his office, Minerva suddenly grabbed hold of his arm. "Albus," she whispered in a low tone, her eyes conveying her message louder than her words. "It's the middle of the day - what could that possibly mean?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes in momentary confusion as she noticed the sudden ashen complexion her Head Witch was sporting. She struggled to discern the reasoning behind McGonagall's fearful expression, when it suddenly dawned upon her - 'called away on business' was the Headmaster's guarded way of saying Snape had been summoned. Memories of Voldemort's sadistic grins and Bellatrix Lestrange's caustic cackling suddenly filled her head, and she was quite sure her own skin had taken on a hue similar to that of the deputy headmistress.

The Headmaster sighed and patted McGonagall's hand softly. "There is no need to be concerned. Now, Hermione - shall we make our way to my office?"

Nodding slowly, Hermione followed him down the corridor towards the large staircase. As she placed her hand upon the stone banister, she chanced a glance back at the elder witch. McGonagall stood in the same place, wringing her hands nervously as she her eyes continued to scan the horizon for any sign of her younger colleague.

Hermione swallowed heavily, realizing the deputy headmistress shared her own hesitancy to accept Dumbledore's half-hearted assurances. Sighing, she returned her attention to the periwinkle robes that were disappearing up the stairs ahead of her and she hurried to catch up to their wearer.

_There's no need to be concerned_, she repeated to herself. _Yet._

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Several hours later, Hermione found herself standing in the very spot Snape had occupied during their first encounter after she had awakened to this new reality. Arms folded against her chest, she leaned upon the window edge in the exact manner he had done that morning, though her head was resting against the stone several centimeters below where his had been. She reckoned that she was staring out at the same piece of landscape that he had purposely chosen to view instead of facing her accusing stare. What he had focused his attention on - _Was it the line of trees to the left? Or the thin strip of lake that was barely visible from this vantage point? Or perhaps the overgrown rose-bushes jutting out here and there on the gravel path? _- she had no idea. Hermione, though, kept her steadfast gaze pointed at the junction of the Earth and the darkening sky, hoping to spot black robes suddenly appear between them.

The clearing of a throat behind her caused Hermione to suddenly whip around.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated. "I did not mean to startle you."

The girl shook her head to signal an apology was not required, and returned her eyes to their silent vigil.

The Headmaster stepped closer to his desk and noticed her supper had remained untouched. A small frown creeping into the corner of his eyes, he silently cast a warming charm upon the food and attempted to recapture her attention.

"The pumpkin custard was quite extraordinary tonight, wouldn't you agree? The kitchen surely outdid themselves." He smiled at her, feigning ignorance of her perfectly intact dessert sitting on the plate currently placed between them.

Hermione glanced down at the food that had sat quite some time, waiting for her. She exhaled a loud breath, knowing she should not have ignored it as she had.

"I wasn't hungry," she lied, half expecting her stomach to growl its testimony to the contrary. The truth was that she had been more concerned with ascertaining Professor Snape's safety than her own nourishment needs. A small voice at the back of her mind served to remind her that if tragedy were to befall her bonded, it would matter naught if she had eaten all her peas.

Dumbledore nodded and fixed her with a knowing gaze. "He will return. And I daresay he would be most displeased to see such a fine meal - and custard - go to waste."

A smirk appeared on her lips as she imagined the dramatic eye roll the Headmaster would have received had Snape been present. She highly doubted he would give a flying leap whether or not she squandered away her chance to sample the culinary artwork that was the exquisitely delectable pumpkin custard, though he had already admonished her poor habit of eating - or not eating, as was the case.

Shrugging, she pushed away from the window and pulled the Headmaster's chair from his desk. She could feel his calm eyes watching her as she took a hesitant bite of mashed potatoes. Hermione had expected them to have gone cold by now, but was relieved to find the opposite to be true. Sensing Dumbledore's small smile, she had the nagging suspicion that the elder wizard had done something to rectify the situation.

Rolling another bite of potatoes around on her tongue, Hermione sighed and glanced up at the ornate wooden clock on the crowded bookshelf. There had been no word from Snape in over seven hours. Hermione swallowed a heavy dread along with her mouthful of food.

"Is he always gone so long?" she ventured to ask. It was somewhat disconcerting to her that she was holding so much concern for the man when only days before she had contemplated suicide just to escape him. _No_, she corrected herself_. Not him - just our misfortuned future together._

Dumbledore inhaled sharply and dipped his head. "He has been detained for longer interludes in the past, but he has never once failed to return -"

"In one piece?" Hermione interrupted without raising her eyes to meet his. Nonchalantly, she began pushing a forkful of pot roast around on the plate.

The Headmaster swallowed as he considered the best way to respond. After a few seconds, he simply smiled. "Severus will be fine. He has been doing this since about the time you were born, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded and tried to push her fear to the back of her mind. She was simultaneously impressed and horrified by her professor's length of dangerous service as a spy for the Order. She felt a twinge of guilt stab deep in her gut when she realized how little respect the man was shown by the students - save for those in Slytherin House, of course. She exhaled softly and then returned her attention to her plate.

As she continued with her meal, Dumbledore risked his own glance at his timepiece. He blinked slowly in thought, but then began rustling in the deep pockets of his robe.

"When you're quite finished, my dear," he stated, fishing out a small, green book with fraying edges. "I know Severus was intending for you to have a look through this. It appears now may be as good a time as any."

He gently slid the volume onto his desk, before turning to leave. As he reached his door, he stopped and added, "You're welcome to use my office for your reading, so long as you can excuse an old man his erratic comings and goings. We only have a few days to ready the castle for the school year, you understand."

When the girl nodded in response, Dumbledore winked at her. "When Severus returns, this will undoubtedly be his first stop."

Hermione waited until he had closed the door behind him before allowing a curious smile to creep onto her face. Emphatically, she pushed her plate of food away and eagerly reached for the book on the other side of the desk. Cautiously she ran her fingers across the bumpy, woven cover and traced the gold-gilded letters that ran down the length of its spine.

**_Contego_**

She stood up from the Headmaster's chair and made her way over to one of the over-sized armchairs placed in front of the fireplace. She skimmed through the thinning pages as she walked and noticed it contained detailed descriptions of several shielding charms and defensive spells. Hermione settled back into the chair with the largest cushions and flipped to the introduction.

Within a short matter of time, Hermione had curled herself into a ball and allowed her eyes to close as she drifted off into soft slumber.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Night was settling itself onto the grounds by the time Severus once again set foot onto the stone corridors of the Hogwarts castle. His head was pounding with every beat of his heart, and he was grateful that Dumbledore had chosen not to leave all of the torches lit for his expected arrival. Migraines were a nasty, but unavoidable side effect that came with the combination of several pain and health-replenishing potions that were required to treat his occasional injuries. They would generally fade away within a few hours of ingestion, but when the damage was more extensive - as it had been that day - his discomfort was sure to last much longer.

After Snape had been excused from Voldemort's presence - and Bellatrix's wand - earlier that day, he had apparated somewhat unsteadily to his home at Spinners' End instead of returning directly to the school. He had worked quickly to stop the bleeding and to repair the broken tissue, and had managed to choke down all of the required potions before collapsing onto the bed in absolute exhaustion. When he had awoken hours later with screaming muscles and a headache so severe he had to fight the urge to empty his stomach contents, Severus opted to remain there until the symptoms had diminished.

Stopping suddenly in the entrance hall, Snape glanced briefly in all directions. Ascertaining that he was indeed alone, he dropped his shoulders and sank against the wall. He only allowed himself a few moments of weakness, however, before he forced himself back into his normal, rigid stance. He winced slightly as his right knee and ankle protested the full onslaught of his body weight.

"Dobby," he hissed quietly into the darkness.

A tell-tale pop announced the arrival of the house elf immediately beside him.

"Master Snape, sir, called for Dobby," the elf chirped. "Dobby is here for Master Snape, sir."

Cringing slightly with every high-pitched syllable, Severus rolled his eyes at the creature before him. Unfortunately, due to Hermione's ill-conceived attempts to unionize the house-elves in her fourth year, there were still harsh feelings towards her from the more tolerable elf staffers. Dobby, on the other hand, was absolutely enthralled by the girl. As a result, Snape found himself compelled to call upon him, much to his own chagrin.

Dobby was, beyond all shadow of a doubt, his least favorite of the Hogwarts elves. This was not due to the fact that he was the only elf who desired clothing and a paycheck, nor was it because he dressed in the most ghastly and atrocious outfits, nor even because the large-eyed being could hardly go a day without mentioning in some way the glorious doings of the most-wonderful Harry Potter. His detest for Dobby stemmed more from the fact that the elf was, in his mind, the most dim-witted and excruciatingly annoying creature he had ever laid eyes upon - excluding, perhaps, the dunderheaded middle Weasley boy. Snape would tell no one this, but he had been rather pleased when Percy Weasley's younger brothers had so lovingly re-charmed his Prefect and Head Boy badges to display more appropriate descriptions for the pre-destined, brown-nosing pencil-pusher.

"Master Snape, sir, is wanting Dobby for something?" The gangly creature was practically vibrating with anticipation as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"Obviously," the Slytherin head muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose._ Why Malfoy was ever upset by the loss of this infuriatingly simple being, I shall never know._

Snape held out the canvas bag he had been carrying. "See to it that these find their way to Miss Granger's dormitory."

Dobby began moving his head up and down with enthusiasm. "Dobby is most pleased to give Hermione Granger presents from Master Snape, sir!"

"They're not presents," Severus growled as the obnoxious being eagerly grabbed the sack from his hands. "They're boo- oh Hell! I'm not going to have a bloody argument with a pea-brained house-elf over a ruddy stack of books. I have more important things to do."

The elf grinned madly. "Dobby does not wish to quarrel with Master Snape, sir! Dobby will be going now to deliver Master Snape, sir's presents to Hermione Granger."

With a crack, the elf was gone, leaving Severus to curse an empty hall. He looked to the ceiling as he regained composure, and then decided he should not delay his report any longer. With a mournful sigh, he attempted to ignore the pain shooting through his leg as he ascended the stairs.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Dumbledore looked up from the papers strewn across his desk as he felt the presence beyond the door. He allowed himself a smile when the Potions Master pushed into the office, but let it slowly fade when he saw Snape's trademark stride was currently marred by a slight limp.

"Severus," he acknowledged. "We're glad to have you back. Minerva was quite beside herself with worry."

Snape shot the Headmaster a look of disbelief as he dropped into the chair closest to the desk. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, and began rubbing the tension from his forehead.

"And how was Tom this evening?" Dumbledore pressed.

A small snort escaped the younger man's lips. "You make it sound like it was a blooming social visit."

When the old wizard did nothing but stare at him expectantly, Severus sneered. "The Dark Lord's just peachy - still all bent out of shape about not being the supreme ruler of the wizarding world and all, but I'm sure he'll get over it soon."

The soft sigh that emanated from Dumbledore was practically inaudible, but Snape could sense he was trying the man's patience. Sighing, he began picking invisible lint from his robes. "It seems Madam Lestrange has been deprived of a spot of fun and feels that I am to blame. She put up such a fuss, the Dark Lord deemed it necessary, in the interest of maintaining order amongst the ranks, for us to put it to rights."

"And for only this you were summoned?" The Headmaster raised his brow.

Severus gave a slight shrug. "The Dark Lord was, of course, particularly interested in how I was getting along with my new... pet."

**_New PET?_**

As if suddenly lit on fire, Snape sprang out of his chair and whirled around to face the room.

Hermione stood before him, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering. Her hair was disheveled - more than usual - and her cheek bore the lines of sleep where it had rested against the back of a chair.

"My dear girl," Dumbledore soothed, stepping out from behind his desk. "Apologies are in order. I had nearly forgotten you were here. I am quite sure Severus meant you no harm."

The girl paid him no attention, refusing to break eye contact with the other man in the room, whose face had paled considerably. Angry tears were forming in her eyes, and her own countenance had turned deep rose in color. Her voice barely managed a hoarse whisper as she finally spoke. "Pet?"

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. He winced as the book she held thudded against the floor, and made a half-hearted attempt to grab at her arm as she sprinted for the exit. When she had disappeared behind the slamming door, Severus spun around and angrily kicked the leg of the Headmaster's desk.

"Fuck!" He shouted as the action caused a fiery pain to flare up through his knee. Further enraged by his injury, Snape, in one swift motion, sent a large inkwell across the room. It shattered against the wall, thick black ink dripping slowly down towards the floor.

Dumbledore stood silent as he watched his spy crumple back into his chair. With a flick of his hand, the spreading ink faded from view and the shards of glass reassembled into an empty inkwell. He crossed his arms behind his back, and strode to glance out the dark window. "I don't suppose you are going to tell me why Madam Lestrange felt so slighted by you."

Snape stared at the back of the wizard's periwinkle robes. "You would be correct, Headmaster. I assure you it has no bearing on my position or the Order, and therefore does not concern you at this time."

"You and she are once again on good terms?" Dumbledore asked, tilting his head slightly as he awaited the response.

With a groan, Severus shifted in the chair and absentmindedly rubbed his leg. "I allowed her to take a few liberties with my personal well-being, and after she got in a few nasty hexes, the Dark Lord declared the debt repaid. I was then permitted leave to tend to my wounds."

Dumbledore turned away from the window and faced him. "I thought we agreed, Severus, that you would return to the school if you were in need of healing. Your position is of too much value to risk on improper care."

"_You_ agreed." Snape rolled his eyes. "I, on the other hand, know that I am perfectly capable of healing myself. It's not as though Bellatrix was actually permitted to kill me." _And even if she were, I wouldn't give the crazy bitch the satisfaction_.

He could feel the Headmaster suddenly attempting to enter his mind, and Severus moved quickly to hinder his progress. He was not sure he wanted the old man to know the deciding factor in his not returning immediately to the castle was not his own pride, but was, in fact, the very girl who he had just sent crying from the room. Hermione had spent a good portion of the day contemplating his sudden absence. It had been with a heavy heart that he had felt her concern, heard her fears and prayers, and knew she needed no more reason to fret. He did not want - nor did he deserve - her pity or sympathy, both of which he would have received by the boat load if he were to have arrived, shaking uncontrollably and bleeding profusely on the ground before her feet.

Snape shook his head at the thought, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, I had a few errands to run before returning."

"Miss Granger's supplies could have been sent for," Dumbledore countered as he sat down. "It was highly unnecessary of you to go to Diagon Alley and personally fetch them for her."

The younger man gave a small shrug. "I was out anyway."

The Headmaster sighed, but if one were to look closely, a humored smirk quivered upon his lips before broaching a new line of discussion. "Hermione did remarkably well this afternoon. Her technique is just as extraordinary as you described to me."

"Indeed," came the soft reply.

An odd silence settled upon the room as both men slipped into their own musings. Unknowingly, each was boarding remarkably similar trains of thought. Several minutes passed before Dumbledore's quiet voice interrupted the stillness of the air.

"She was quite concerned for your safety, Severus."

Snape lifted his dark eyes to meet the twinkling blue ones.

"I know," he stated, allowing only a trace of hurt to flicker across his features before replacing his mask of apathy. "It was unbelievably...distracting."

Dumbledore sighed loudly. "She wants to trust you. Let her."

Rising from his chair, Severus dropped his gaze to the desk. "She's better off not to."

"You cannot know that," the Headmaster argued.

Snape sent him a harsh gaze before sweeping his way across the floor towards the door.

Immediately standing tall, Dumbledore called after him. "She thinks you are responsible for her parents' deaths."

Severus abruptly halted his stride. He pinched his eyes closed and let out a mournful breath.

"You owe Hermione enough to at least relieve those fears," the elder wizard continued. "She needs to know the truth."

Silence followed the Headmaster's declaration. Snape's chest rose with a large intake of air, and he exhaled slowly.

"Severus -" Dumbledore began again, but was quickly cut short by the Potions Master's sudden and pained response.

"And what if I am?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrow as he stared at the younger man's back. "What if you are what, Severus?"

"Responsible," Snape sighed, his shoulders sagging. "What if I _am_ responsible for their... unexpected departures?"

When no immediate answer came forth from the greying wizard, Severus sighed once again before resuming his path towards the door. As his robes swept out of the room, Albus stared after the darker wizard, his eyes narrowed in confused suspicion.

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><p>AN: "Contego" is loosely translated from Latin to mean "to shield, protect or defend"...in case you were wondering.


	17. Facing the Truth

**A/N: I am SO sorry for the delay. I did not mean to leave you without an update for so long! **

**Thanks for all of your patience - and your urging! 83annak, .A.F, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Kayleigh-FanfictionAddict-21, cinnamin, tennis14321432, Sic Vita Est, Lover of Fantasy, Angelwells, Phoenixica24, becknox71270, Mel, BellasBeingBad, wintersong1954, MadamigellaSnape, Anonymous, Jack, and DedicatedReader!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 17**

Several minutes and a number of corridors later, Hermione finally slowed her pace to a quick walk. Her heartbeat was racing, and she struggled to get a decent breath. She had not meant to run in any particular direction - her only goal had been to get away. Finally stopping in the middle of a wide hallway, she listened for any signs that she had been followed. Hermione could hear nothing, but she was unable to shake the feeling of Snape's fingers brushing against her arm as he tried to prevent her from fleeing.

Ducking into an alcove behind a suit of armor, she wrapped her arms around her waist and gasped painfully for air. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks as she doubled over and slid down the wall. When her bottom rested on the floor, she pulled her knees up against her arms.

_Pet? ! What right did he have to say that? To call me that?_ Hermione squeezed her arms tighter around herself, and stifled a sob.

"You bastard!" She shouted into the darkness. "I hate you!"

_No, you don't_. A pained expression appeared on her face as Hermione leaned the back of her head against the wall. _You just want to hurt him like he hurt you._

Her inner voice of reason was arguing with her emotions, and the assault of logic upon her outrage was suffocating. Disgust radiated from her as she realized it was the same feeling that had sent her running out the garden door and into the waiting arms of the Death Eaters.

If she had only been able to shut off her emotions and rationally speak things through with her parents - or even abandon logic all together and just scream at them until she was blue in the face. If only she could have separated those two pieces of her mind, they could have had a chance. She could have had a chance. She could have been at the house when the Death Eaters came knocking. She could have at least tried to make it to her wand in time to fend off their attack. If she had fought them, perhaps her parents would be alive. Perhaps she could have even alerted the Order somehow. If she had only done that, she would now be snuggled in between her parents in the sitting room of a safe-house instead of curled up on the cold floor of the dark castle, completely alone.

_But I didn't._ Hermione unfolded her arms and covered her face with her hands. She had not stayed, she had not fought. Instead, she had laid on a picnic table - pouting like a child who did not get her way - while her parents were brutally slain in their own home. Instead, she had let herself be easily captured by the enemy, just to be tortured, raped, and offered up as a prize to a man who had no option but to violently accept. Instead, she had let herself be bonded to him as if she were a second-class citizen; as if she were a slave; as if she were a pet.

An overwhelming feeling of nausea overtook her, and Hermione rolled forward onto her knees, pressing her forehead to the stone tiling.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered against the floor. The image of her mother and father concernedly staring at her from their parlor was seared into her mind as she repeated the phrase. "I'm so sorry."

How long she stayed there in that odd position of penitence, she could not be sure. She knew only that she stayed just long enough to let the room stop turning. A shiver rippled through her body as a chill replaced the queasiness of earlier.

Hermione sighed as she shakily rose to her feet, once again wrapping her arms about herself. She stepped out from behind the suit of armor and began making her way down the corridor. She stopped suddenly, however, when she realized just where in the castle she actually stood. The statue of Boris the Bewildered loomed ahead of her, and, for the first time in her residency at Hogwarts, she felt as though she were more lost than he.

Blinking slowly at the confused expression carved into the stone, she could almost see agony lying beneath it. It was painful to stand there not knowing, and it hurt even more for her to admit it - even if only to herself.

_But it's not just to myself any more, is it?_ Hermione chewed on her lip as she realized Snape was now undoubtedly more than aware of her personal faults and culpabilities. It was unfair. She had been laid bare before him - both physically and mentally - and yet he could still escape into the shadows.

She sighed as she finally tore her eyes from the statue.

_Snape had made an effort, hadn't he?_ He had offered her the knowledge he held regarding their new connection, and he had even allowed her to ask questions. If she were to survey any of the hundreds of students that would be walking this very hallway within the week, they would confirm the theory that Professor Severus Snape _hated_ questions, and yet he had granted her that opportunity.

_Though it wasn't like he was opening up to me._ There was still so much he was hiding - so much she needed to know.

Hermione swallowed heavily as she glanced down the hall at the door leading to the Prefects' Bathroom. Closing her eyes, she quickly came to a decision and pushed away her uncertainty. She let out a deep breath before stepping past Boris and sidling up to the door.

"Cinnamon Burst," she stated firmly, hoping the password had not yet changed. The door swung open, and Hermione took another steadying breath of air before stepping across the threshold. There was an odd silence in the room as Hermione passed by the gleaming row of toilet stalls and the swimming pool sized bathtub, which stood empty.

The mermaid in the stained glass window awoke from her slumber at the girl's sudden intrusion. Under normal circumstances, Hermione always made sure to greet the glass figure, who would then respond with a smile and a polite dip of her head. In this instance, however, she was too preoccupied by the revolting curiosity churning in her gut, and the routine exchange was forgone.

Pulling her jewel-toned hair behind her ear, the mermaid fixed Hermione with an inquisitive stare. Her sparkling eyes silently followed Hermione's form as she moved hesitantly towards the girls' shower chamber. When the girl disappeared from her view, the creature flapped her tail in concerned annoyance.

Hermione attempted to steel her nerves as strode past the shower stalls towards the rear dressing room. Rarely had she ever seen the need to utilize that space as her appearance was not high enough on her list of priorities to compete with the more vain of her prefect counterparts for use of the full length mirrors. Pansy Parkinson, for instance, would slither her way into the small room, magically secure the doors, and proceed to take as long as humanly possible to primp her hair, straighten her tie, and ruffle her skirt.

Pushing the door ajar, Hermione slipped into the room and nearly jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors. Working hard to regain her composure, she clicked the door shut - more out of habit than security - and stood stiffly in the middle of the room. Four large mirrors towered over her, each portraying her bedraggled image from a different angle. Her eyes were red and puffy, while the rest of her skin was abnormally pale. Her hair was tousled in all directions - even more so than usual - and she could see that her chin and collar bone were beginning to jut out more than usual.

Hermione took a deep breath as she faced herself. She could see her hands were shaking, so she closed them into fists and dropped them to her side. "You wanted to see this, remember?"

_You need to see this. You need to know._ Closing her eyes momentarily, she brought her hands to the bottom of her T-shirt and began slowly lifting the cotton material. She raised the fabric until edge of her bra was visible and she shivered slightly as the air settled on her exposed flesh. Swallowing a nervous gulp of air, she opened her eyes and turned until her back was visible in one of the mirrors.

She audibly gasped at the sight. Across the pale skin of her lower back, the name of the Potions Master was essentially carved into her flesh. Tentatively, she reached a quivering hand to the spot and gingerly ran her fingers across the area. A look of morbid awe settled on her face as she felt the raised edges and the depressed grooves of the letters. She halted the movement of her hand and held her breath as a prickling sensation attacked her fingertips. It was the same feeling she experienced when reaching for some of the Dark Arts books in the Restricted Section of the library.

_Dark magic._ Her chest tightened, and the blood seemed to drain from her head. As nausea began to settle into her stomach, Hermione removed her hand and let the shirt drop back into place. The mirror's image of the wound disappeared beneath the white cotton, but it was still emblazoned sharply in her mind.

**_Severus Snape_**

It was the same angrily elegant scrawl that one would normally associate with the ornery wizard. It was the signature one would expect to see at the bottom of angry note sent home after an incidence of great dunderheadedness. It was the signature one would expect to see at the bottom of a contract or deed. It was the signature one would expect to see claiming ownership of a book or set of robes. A signature was what one expected to see upon property.

_Property. His property - to do with as he pleases._ Hermione felt the bile rising quickly as the room began to spin. A hand flew to her mouth as she yanked the dressing room door and ran through the shower chamber. Plowing into the first toilet stall, she barely made it to her knees before vomit propelled itself from her mouth. Tears streamed down her face as she heaved the contents of her stomach into the porcelain basin. When there was nothing left to expel, she collapsed onto the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

A minute passed before Hermione pulled herself into a seated position. Leaning her weight on one arm, she brushed her hair out of her face and placed it behind her ear. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slowly rose from the ground.

Her vision was still slightly blurred as she stumbled to the nearest sink, grabbing hold of its edge for support. The faucet, sensing her presence, began running water. Hermione hastily cupped her hand and scooped the water into her mouth to rinse away the horrible taste of stomach acid. After several bouts of rinsing and spitting, she splashed the cold water onto her face before waving the water away.

Hermione let out a sigh as she brought her head up to view her reflection in the small mirror over the sink. She wiped away the drips of water trickling down her chin as she attempted to gather her thoughts. She shook her head mournfully as she whispered to her reflection. "What are we going to do?"

"Well, you c_ould_ start with a spot of rouge, dear," a hazy voice drifted from the mirror. "You're looking rather peaky."

Sucking in a quick breath of air, Hermione narrowed her eyes angrily.

"There's no need to get upset about it, child," the mirror cooed. "And you could do with a spot of hearty cooking. No man - at least not any of the good ones - likes to look at skin and bones."

An irate growl escaped Hermione's lips as she vibrated with rage. Without so much as a word, her wand appeared in her hand, the tip of it glowing red. The Reducto spell seemingly launched itself at the mirror with a nasty crunching sound. Shards of glass slid from the wall, clattering into the sink and onto the floor.

Hermione stared at the glass strewn about her, each piece yielding somewhat distorted reflections of her reddened face. She closed her eyes and threw her head back in disgust as she thought of the old wives' tale. _ Seven years' bad luck. Great._

"Well at least you have to be alive to have bad luck," she snorted darkly as she made her way towards the door.

"Completely uncalled for!" the mirror's voice called shrilly as the door shut behind the girl. The comment drew a sharp glance from the stained glass mermaid, who shook her head and crossly slapped her fins against her rock.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Snape paused on his way to the dungeons after leaving the Headmaster's office. Hermione's thoughts were spiraling through his conscience. He did not care that she had called him a bastard or claimed to hate him. He had heard much worse from students before, and in this instance, he knew he deserved any nasty, spiteful comment the girl could throw at him.

But when she had shifted the censure to herself, he felt a deep sadness settle into his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out if there was something he should do. A part of him desperately wanted to interrupt her wayward thinking and forbid her from blaming herself for anything that had occurred in the past week. He could do it, he knew. He had the power.

Severus sighed and shook his head. It seemed wrong to continuously interfere in her personal thoughts. Currently, they were not any risk to her physical safety, and he decided it best to remain a silent observer. _To give her some semblance of privacy, at least._

He kept a tight control of his features as he continued on toward the next flight of stairs. His eye twitched slightly as the image of Boris the Bewildered's statue appeared in his head. He slowed his gait noticeably, a small breath of relief escaping his body as he now knew where to find her if the need arose.

It was only a few steps later when he felt that, indeed, it had.

She wanted to see it. She wanted to see what he had done. Snape blanched and then sprinted towards the staircase. Barely a minute had passed before he found himself on the fifth floor, striding quickly towards the Prefects' Bathroom.

"Stop." McGonagall stood just before the door, holding her hand up to halt his progress.

His eyes widened in surprise at her presence, but he made no indication of following her instruction. As he attempted to step past her, she grasped his arm firmly and yanked him to a halt.

"Severus, I'm warning you." She stared forcefully at him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. "If you go in there, you will regret it."

Snape narrowed his gaze. "I'm beginning to think, Minerva, that your threats are nothing more than empty promises."

McGonagall snorted and released her hold on him. She watched carefully as he straightened his robes and she relaxed significantly when he made no further motions towards the bathroom.

"You are aware, madam," he raised his eyebrow quizzically, "of what she has gone in there to do?"

The witch gave a quick nod of her head. "I am. But I am also aware that it is something she needs to do."

Severus sighed mournfully and glanced at the door.

At his continued silence, Minerva cleared her throat and placed a soft hand on his arm. "I know you're trying to protect her from it, Severus, but you have to understand the girl. She's the most stubborn and curious student I've had the privilege of teaching since you yourself sat in my classroom. And as such, you have to realize hiding the truth from her like she's a child is not the way to go about it."

"She _is_ a child!" He hissed, angrily snatching his arm away from her and pacing to the other side of the hallway.

McGonagall sighed and dropped her arms to her side. "On paper, perhaps, but you and I both know that Hermione Granger is no longer a child."

Snape glared at her, before shaking his head and placing a hand on the wall. His stomach took a turn as he could see Hermione examining his transgression.

The deputy headmistress took a tentative step towards him. "She has seen so much -"

"I know what she's _seen_!" He shot a dark look at the witch, whose eyes only widened slightly in surprise. His voice cracked to just above a whisper as he turned his face back to the stone wall. "I have seen everything she has."

Minerva set her mouth in a rigid line. "Then you cannot tell me she has not grown into a strong, competent woman. Do not dampen this by babying her, Severus. She has a good head on her shoulders, and she needs to know what she's up against."

Severus dropped his shoulders, but nodded slowly. A moment passed before he cautiously spoke. "There are some things, however, that she cannot yet know...for her own safety."

McGonagall drew in a sharp breath of air and dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I am sure you know what's best."

She stepped towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It pains me that you were yet another child who was forced to grow up too quickly."

Snape sighed, avoiding eye contact with her. He felt her give his shoulder a squeeze, and he glanced after her as the witch made her way down the hallway.

A few lonely minutes passed before he heard a small blast and realized Hermione was on her way out of the bathroom. He quickly ducked into the dark alcove behind the suit of armor.

"No need to get upset about it...stupid," Hermione was aputtering as she emerged from behind the door. He could tell even in the dark that her face was flushed and her free hand was balled into a fist, while the other clutched her wand tightly. She expelled an angry breath as she folded her arms against herself and began slowly walking towards the stairs.

"Just great, Hermione. How bloody _brilliant_ of you," she criticized in a soft voice. "Snape - the champion of taking away points - knows everything you do, and now Gryffindor's going to start in the red just because you couldn't keep calm in front of a pathetic mirror."

Severus snorted without thinking, causing the girl to sharply turn around. He froze, holding his breath as her eyes scanned the hallway. He relaxed when she shook her head and continued on her way.

"You're going completely mental," she spat harshly.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

By the time Hermione reached the Fat Lady's Portrait, her anger had boiled down to a low simmer. She politely gave the password and even managed a nod to the portrait's night-time well-wishes. As the painting clicked shut behind her, Hermione sighed and relaxed her shoulders. As she slipped her wand into the pocket of her jeans, she glanced about the empty common room and shuddered at how quiet it was. It did not seem right to see it without a cheery fire lit in the hearth or without a large group of Gryffindors doing whatever they could to put off their homework.

_Soon enough, it will be back to normal_, she thought wistfully. However, a dark look crossed her features quickly as she realized that was not at all true. Some of the others may return with the same disposition of previous years, but she was sure those closest to her would not. Those who had been in Dumbledore's Army and who were involved in the attack at the Ministry would forever be changed. They now knew firsthand that evil was actively threatening their way of life, and that war was not just a possibility, but a reality.

The few letters she had received that summer had been rather morose. Harry had not found the time to write her, but Ron and Ginny had kept her updated with what they knew. Sirius's death had affected him substantially, and he was still tormented by nightmares of his confrontations with Voldemort. _Something we have in common._

Hermione blew out an annoyed breath. Harry was probably the one person who would be the most understanding of her situation, and she was forbidden to speak to him about it. She desperately wished to rely on the support of her friends, but Snape had limited her possible confidants to those who already knew of it.

As she began her way towards the girls' dormitory, her eyes narrowed crossly. Harry always sought advice from Professor Dumbledore, but she could not see him as her own sounding board. She respected the man and would trust him with her life, but the doddering old wizard act quickly wore on her nerves. Harry never seemed to see it, but she knew there were many things Dumbledore kept from them and she was sick of being treated like a child.

Professor McGonagall had tirelessly stood by her throughout the past week, and Hermione knew she would continue to do so. Her Head of House had always been her favorite instructor and her biggest role model, but she was not ready to confide everything in the witch. There were some things that one wanted to discuss with friends or equals and not with a superior. She had too much respect for the woman.

_Which only leaves Snape_. Hermione frowned as she walked into her room. Nearing her bed, she saw the pile of textbooks and materials stacked neatly at the foot. There was no doubt in her mind that he had purchased them, and her frown turned into an absolute scowl.

A frustrated scream came the girl as she grabbed the first book and flung it across the room. Again and again, she angrily cast the objects from her presence. When the very last item - a package of quills - smacked off the wall and dropped to the floor, Hermione sank somberly onto the bed.

The man was now integrated into every aspect of her life. She hid her face in her hands and groaned. _You're just going to have to deal with it._

Pulling her hands to her lap, Hermione glanced about at the mess she had created. The books were haphazardly strewn on the floor, and surprisingly the inkwell had neither shattered nor spilled its contents. She exhaled deeply before kneeling on the floor and gathering everything together. She picked up the nearest book, straightening its pages and grimacing at the nasty crease now visible on its spine.

Running her hands across the smooth finish of its cover, she sighed and sat back on her heels. The title was the same that had been listed as the required text for Advanced Potions, but she knew this book was different. There were no markings in the margins, no tears or stains on the pages, and the only damage had been caused by its sudden trip to the floor. Flipping to the cover page, she drew in a surprised breath. Not only was it the most recent edition, it was also the apprentice-level version, expanded to include for each potion its derivatives, variants, and history. She remembered eyeing the apprentice table at Flourish & Botts the year before and, as such, she knew how expensive even the used copies were.

Hermione closed the book, and with a small sob, pulled it to her chest. It was then that she noticed that the other textbooks were just as pristine as the one she held. One by one, she tenderly pulled them into her lap and flipped through the pages. Transfiguration, Defense, and Charms were also apprentice-level texts, and the others -Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy - claimed to be "for the more-advanced of advanced students."

Rising to her feet, Hermione balanced the inkwell and quill set on top of her books and carried them all over to her desk. She left the ink and quills on the desktop and began placing the books onto her bookshelf. When finished, she lazily ran a finger across the spines of each of the books. She could not fight the small, appreciative grin that appeared on her face as she turned away from the desk to get ready for bed.

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><p>AN: I apologize if this seems to be going slow. I wanted to try to build up the beginning, and once the school year begins, it will go much faster and have more happenings.


	18. The Next Step

**A/N: I am so so SO sorry it took this long! You have no idea how many papers, lab reports, and speeches I've had to write these past weeks! I cannot WAIT for break. However, I managed to dedicate some Turkey-break time to giving you an update! Yay! And it was sometime this century! **

**Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers! LoveSnape11, DedicatedReader, woodshark, BellasBeingBad, HPFanGirl01, ultimanoapte, tennis14321432, KittyPimms, MadamigellaSnape, cinnamin, 83annak, sweet-tang-honney, Mel, BlooDsucKkerR69, Lover of Fantasy, Mossyrock, stupidme, Angelwells, Phoenixica24, Vif119, and Russian Flower!  
><strong>

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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
><strong>

**Chapter 18**

A deep scowl was set upon the face of Severus Snape as he descended into the dungeons the next morning. The rest of the faculty members would be returning to the school over the next twenty-four hours, and he was as excited about that as he was about having to read another year's worth of student essays.

As per usual, Sybil Trelawny had been the first to arrive, wobbling into the castle as the light was just beginning to peek through the early morning fog. Severus had had the misfortune of appearing on the ground floor just as Dumbledore was welcoming her back for the year.

His frown deepened as he remembered how she had frozen at the sight of him, her bugged-out lenses blinking at him in alarm. Snape mentally sighed. _If I never have to see that woman again, it will be too soon._

To make matters worse, the Headmaster had seized upon the opportunity to further dampen his spirits. The first staff meeting of the year was to be held the following afternoon, promising him several torturous hours of scheduling and small talk.

"Don't forget to bring your lesson plans, my boy!" Dumbledore had called out just before he managed to escape.

_Lesson plans!_ Snape snorted disdainfully. _In the wake of everything that has happened, the man is worried about ruddy lecture notes. As if I haven't been following the SAME protocol for the past decade._

Several choice words and phrases were echoing about his conscience as he strode angrily down the corridor. As he rounded the corner, however, he came to an abrupt halt and let his contemptuous glare melt into a blank expression.

Hermione sat on the floor beside his office door. She had wrapped her arms about her legs and was resting her chin atop her knees as she stared blankly at the wall opposite her.

Severus watched her curiously for a few seconds before shifting back into motion.

"Loitering in the hallways already, Miss Granger?" He raised an eyebrow as she visibly jumped.

The girl immediately glanced up at him, and he caught sight of a brief glimmer of terror swimming in her pupils before she returned her gaze to the wall. Her cheeks had taken on a tinge of pink as she let out a puff of air.

"You weren't in either your office or your classroom, and I figured it impolite to enter without permission." She pulled herself up from the floor and dusted off the back of her jeans.

Snape tilted his head as a slight smirk graced his features. He held open the door and gestured her inside. "So it appears you _do_ possess a set of manners. Pity you couldn't teach the rest of your house."

Hermione sighed as she stepped past him and into the room. _Pity you couldn't teach yours_.

"Indeed."

She blanched as he shut the door with more force than was necessary.

Severus pretended not to notice as he swept by her and made for his desk. "Pardon my tardiness this morning, Miss Granger. It seems Mr. Filch was in need of my assistance regarding the replacement of a rather expensive mirror that used to hang on the fifth floor. Apparently, some roving..._poltergeist_ saw fit to blast it to..._smithereens_."

"P-poltergeist?" She stammered in disbelief before slamming her mouth shut and glancing at the floor in shame. She could feel her ears burning as she remembered her violent outburst. _Peeves didn't break the mirror - I did! He must know that._

Rolling his eyes, Snape glanced at the clock and cleared his throat loudly. "Before you begin designing the stationary for Prevent the Insufferable Student Slandering of Our Phantasmal Habitants or some other ridiculously-acronymed society, you should realize that _that_ accursed being was more than happy to take the fall for your late night bout of property destruction. He was merrily peppering Mr. Filch with the evidence for quite some time before the caretaker finally saw the need to consult me."

Hermione gave a slight start when he began speaking, but soon narrowed her eyes in confusion. "But you could have told him the truth -"

He sighed dramatically and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Use your head, girl. What would have likely transpired had I done so?"

A moment of silence occurred as Hermione slowly mulled it over. Severus's fingers were twitching with impatience before the light of realization finally overtook her eyes. "I'm not supposed to be here. That's it, right? He would have started asking questions that you don't want to answer."

**_"Brilliant as always, Miss Granger."_** His voice dripped sarcasm across her thoughts.

"Stop it," she whispered suddenly.

Snape whipped his head in her direction and narrowed his eyebrows. **_"Stop what?"_** he asked wordlessly.

"That," Hermione answered, meeting his gaze. "Stop _that_! Stop talking in my head! Your voice rattles around in there enough as it is, _believe_ me... So if you have something to say to me, Professor, I would a-appreciate it if you would say it ou-out loud and...to my face."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise as she flopped into the chair with a defeated sigh, but recovered quickly. Shifting his robes and glancing at the top of his desk, he gave the slightest dip of his head. "Very well."

"Thank you," she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms.

Severus grunted unintelligibly as he stepped out from behind his desk. He stood in front of her chair, peering down his long nose at her. "As your new technique appears to have withstood not only the intrusions of my wand, but also those of the Headmaster's, I believe it is time to examine its efficacy with more advanced Occlumency."

Hermione nodded, but then stopped as a small smirk materialized. "Piss off."

Seeing the frown suddenly appear on his face, she offered a hurried explanation. "Prevent the Insufferable Student Slandering of Our Phantasmal Habitants - P.I.S.S.O.P.H. It's the acronym - your acronym, sir. I just figured it ... I just ... Right, _focus_. I'm focusing, sir. I _swear_."

Severus bit the inside of his cheek and strode behind her chair so as to avoid her seeing the smile struggling to break free. He cleared his throat louder than usual, disguising a small chuckle, and then wiped his countenance free of emotion.

"As I was saying - before your childish interruption - you now have the ability to obscure your conscience from prying wands. While some may prematurely declare this a victory, bear in mind that should the Dark Lord perform Legilimency -as he is so apt to do - and find your head so lacking in substance, it will not seem quite so exultant." Snape slid his wand out from his sleeve and took a small breath. "I can assure you, Miss Granger, he does not take kindly to...deception."

_Obviously_. Pinching her eyes shut, Hermione shifted in her seat and exhaled slowly. "So I only need conceal specific memories?"

"Not just memories, Miss Granger." He spun around to face her. "Thoughts, opinions, emotions - all of these you must filter! Anything that may betray us, you must cleave from the rest of the drivel filling that bushy hair of yours."

She rolled her eyes and sighed while he stalked back to his desk. "Any pointers, then?"

**X x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Professor, this isn't working!" Hermione doubled over, gasping for more air.

Snape rubbed his temples and rested against the edge of his desk. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on and suddenly wished he could retire to the bottle of fire-whiskey sitting in front of his fireplace.

"Maybe if you could just..." she paused as she drew in another ragged breath, "I don't know...explain it again, perhaps?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the wizard sighed. He was going to need a potion soon if she was going to insist upon talking so often. Entering her mind repeatedly, by itself, was taxing enough on his system, but her efforts the past day and a half had made it worse. The memories that swirled by him would randomly glow brighter or fade slightly as she tried to focus on manipulating them. Sometimes they would spin uncontrollably or flicker violently, giving the impression of some amusement park ride from hell where even the most die-hard thrill-seeker would be sure to feel quite ill. Severus realized he should be grateful to only be suffering a splitting headache. He was lucky not to have fallen to the ground, vomiting at her feet or even erupting into fits of seizures.

_Though there's still the chance of it. The day isn't over yet_, he mused. Opening his eyes and folding his arms against his chest, Snape shook his head. "No."

"But, sir, if -" Hermione began.

"Whatever it is you are trying, Miss Granger, it is _not_ working. You shall have to find a new approach. I cannot take any more of...whatever it is you were doing."

The girl opened her mouth to protest, but quickly swallowed the comment. Her face had taken on a red hue as she noticed the green tinge appearing on his pale skin. After taking a deep breath, she re-gathered her courage. "Well then - what would you suggest?"

Severus raised his eyes to meet hers. He considered her question for a minute before answering, "Instead of trying to single out the memories, perhaps it may be more constructive to focus on the emotions attached to them. Try latching onto one emotion, and allow it to cloud all the others."

"I thought I was supposed to clear away my emotions," she frowned.

"You _need_ to control them," he corrected. "If you are able to clear them away, logically you should also be able to control them."

"Fine." Hermione stood and began to stretch. Severus redirected his gaze to the wall until he heard the chair squeak as she retook her seat.

She gestured with an open palm. "Alright, blast away."

"Do not tempt me, girl." He scowled as he raised his wand. "Legilimens!"

Severus winced slightly as he spiraled into her conscience. He closed his eyes briefly to steady his stomach as the now familiar images swirled about him. While during earlier sessions her head had been filled with memories of her parents and of _that_ night, now they were joined by a plethora of others. He could see Sirius Black slipping into the Veil, Viktor Krum bowing at the bottom of the staircase and extending his arm, and Draco Malfoy running away, covering his nose with his hands. Several nauseating images of Potter and Weasley from throughout the years also circled past him.

Grief. Excitement. Rage. Happiness. Fear. Jealousy. He felt all of these wash over him as he moved through the memories.

"Miss Granger, I said you should focus on _one_ sentiment, and one sentiment only. Or does that hair of yours interfere with your-" he trailed off as he caught sight of his own likeness slithering about, "-_hearing_."

Curious, he began stepping towards the memory, dodging the other flashing faces that rushed past him and ignoring the spectrum of emotions across which he tread. When it was only inches from his face, Severus cautiously raised his hand to touch it. Instantly he was transported into his classroom, and from the canned speech he recited to every new batch of first-years, he knew it had to be from five years ago. He could suddenly feel an overwhelming desire to prove himself as he saw the younger Hermione's hand shoot up and wave about obnoxiously. Shame and disappointment began working their way into his gut as her attempts to please him went unrecognized.

_'Perhaps you should just go ahead and take the credit for my failures, then, Professor! Merlin knows you've been waiting to do so since I first walked in to your classroom!' _

Her voice angrily screeched through his head as he felt, more than saw, the tears building up in the eyes of the first-year girl sitting before him. Yet another instance when he had been so distracted by his loathing of the Potter spawn that he had been blind to the pain he caused others. It seemed he had been fated to fill Hermione Granger's life with misery and anguish.

_And you've done a bang-up job at that._ Severus shook his head as he continuously stepped from one memory of himself to another. Nowhere could he find the hatred he had expected, nowhere could he find the fear that she had previously displayed. As he made his way to the near-present, he could once again see the little black orbs flitting about the space before him.

_' She thinks you are responsible for her parents' deaths.'_

Snape frowned in confusion. It was not there. He had not seen a single thought of hers that regarded his involvement in their demise. Dumbledore had seen it, but he had not. It did not make sense. Frustrated, he began snatching at the black particles dancing around him. Once again, he found his hand slipping through dark strands of mist as the orbs disappeared.

Exasperated and exhausted, Severus dropped his arms to his side and cancelled the incantation. He closed his eyes until he felt securely rooted in his own body. When he did open them, he found Hermione staring at him with defeat written upon her features.

"I tried," she stated, glancing quickly at the floor. She squirmed nervously as she attempted to explain. "I tried picking out one emotion on which to focus, but I kept thinking it was the wrong one. So I'd try another, but that one would be wrong, too. I didn't know what you wanted me to do, sir - and then it just became one, big jumbled mess! And I tried to sort it out, I did, but -"

Severus closed his eyes and held up a hand to silence her.

"I tried," she repeated in a whisper. She sighed loudly and dropped her head into her hands. "I'm going to be the death of us."

"That remains to be seen, Miss Granger," he shrugged, stowing his wand into his sleeve. "Though I have little doubt as to the validity of that statement."

The sudden appearance of a green flame in his fireplace prevented him from studying her reaction to his words.

"Oh, what the bloody hell is it _now_!" He shouted, spinning to face the intruder.

Professor McGonagall stood tall and snorted as she stepped into the office. "I'll tell you what the bloody hell _it_ is! The Headmaster refuses to start until _you_ are in attendance - Oh, hello Miss Granger - and the longer you dilly-dally, Severus, the longer_ I_ have to sit there!"

Snape scowled as he remembered the staff meeting. _Perhaps it isn't too late to begin seizing?_

The elder witch brushed some excess floo powder from her robes and then fixed him with another glare. "I swear on your mother's grave, Severus, if you leave me in that room with that...that...THAT woman longer than I have to be, I will make your life a living hell."

"While I do admire that vein popping out in your forehead, Minerva," he began, risking a side glance at his young charge, "I doubt you could make my life any worse than it already is."

Narrowing her eyes, McGonagall tempered her expression into a cool gaze. "It would do you well to remember that I am the one who assigns your seat at the High Table, and, unless you wish to spend the rest of your employment here seated to the immediate right of Professor Trelawny, I suggest you get your skinny arse in that staff room."

Severus paled briefly, but then snorted and turned to Hermione. "It does appear that our... _dilly-dallying_... is at an end for the afternoon. I suggest you put the time to good use and get your head in order."

Hermione nodded stiffly and rose from her chair. As she headed towards the door, McGonagall wished her a good afternoon. When the door clicked shut, the deputy headmistress threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and called out the destination.

"Now, get in there!" She shouted, pushing Severus into the flames.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Ah, Severus," the Headmaster greeted him as he spiraled into the room. "It's good to have you join us."

Snape straightened to his full height, scowling as he swept the floo powder from his sleeve. "I wouldn't _dream_ of missing it, Albus."

A quick whooshing sound behind him announced the arrival of the deputy headmistress.

Dumbledore smiled. "Minerva, thank you for taking it upon yourself to fetch our young Potions Master. He does tend to lose track of time down there."

McGonagall gave a loud 'Harrumph' as she stepped past the younger wizard and made her way to her seat next to the Headmaster.

Severus rolled his eyes before glancing about the room. The full Hogwarts teaching staff had gathered around the long table. He narrowed his eyes angrily as he spotted Trelawny staring at him with her usual, horror-stricken expression. Looking away quickly, he caught sight of another familiar face that caused his lip to twitch into a snarl.

_Lupin_. His displeasure grew as he realized the only open seat was placed next to the werewolf. He could feel the Headmaster silently telling him to sit down, and with a roll of the eyes, he stalked over to the empty chair and flopped into it.

"I assume I shall be called upon once again to prepare the flea baths," he muttered moodily.

Lupin snorted and fixed him with an amused glance. "How kind of you to offer your services, Professor. Here I thought I was going to be at the mercy of the house-elves."

Snape let a torturous sigh escape his lips, and turned his attention to the window. He let his body relax and decided to only half-listen to what Dumbledore had to say. It was relatively the same speech every year, and he was already privy to more information than most of the others on staff.

Through the window, he could see a flock of birds swooping over the tops of the trees. The day looked relatively peaceful as only a calm breeze fluttered the tips of the leaves. He knew Hermione was somewhere near the lake as she was arguing with herself about whether or not she should have left the castle. He had told her the day before to stay out of sight, and now she was worried that someone may catch a glimpse of her. Severus smirked as she came to the correct conclusion that if he did not want her there, he would have told her off by now.

_Quite right you are_, he thought to himself. A moment's worry weighed upon his mind as he remembered her outburst the morning prior, but he soon relaxed when he was sure she had not heard him. So far, it seemed that she could only hear his thoughts when he willed them to be heard. Severus absent-mindedly chewed on his lip as a thought struck him. _If I can will my thoughts to be audible, am I capable of willing hers inaudible?_

He got no farther on that line of thinking as the mention of Hermione's name caused him to snap his attention towards the Headmaster.

"On a most distressing note," Dumbledore began, "one of our promising students - Hermione Granger - has found her family to be a recent target of Lord Voldemort's followers. I do admit that it is quite unprecedented to permit a student early re-entry into Hogwarts. However, in light of these dark times, I have allowed the young Miss Granger to take sanctuary here in these halls."

Expressions of shock and sympathy erupted from several staff members, while Snape narrowed his eyes. The Headmaster had assured him - not even a week ago - that the official explanation for her presence at the castle would be much farther from the truth, and leave far fewer questions unanswered. His eyes flicked around the table at the familiar faces surrounding him. It was difficult to picture any of them running to the Dark Lord with information, but betrayal, he knew, was never an impossibility.

Severus froze as he realized Lupin was watching him. Several uncomfortable minutes passed as the Defense instructor continued his scrutiny while Dumbledore continued speaking of other things.

"Is she alright?" Remus whispered as soon as the meeting was dismissed.

Snape sighed, but gave the slightest dip of his head.

Traces of tension began to dissolve from the disheveled man's face. He glanced about quickly at the disappearing staff members before speaking once again to the Slytherin Head. "Are _they_ safe?"

Snape's eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead, and he shifted his gaze to Dumbledore, who was watching the two men with a curious look upon his face. Severus's own expression grew cold as he turned back to Lupin. "I'm afraid I have _nothing_ to tell you. Any further questions you may have should be addressed to the Headmaster. Good day, Lupin. Try not to scratch too much."

Remus sighed as Snape rose from his chair and made to leave the room.

"Severus," Dumbledore called out. "If you wouldn't mind, I have some additions for you to make to your lesson plans."

Snape scowled, but turned back towards the table. He glared in Lupin's direction until the werewolf smiled and took his leave with a polite nod to the Headmaster.

"I see you have tossed the Ministry's recommendations to the wolves," Severus sneered when the door had clicked shut, leaving the two wizards alone.

Dumbledore chuckled and gestured to the two armchairs near the fire. "It may come as some shock to you that the Ministry and I have had a falling-out of sorts recently. Regardless, I felt it might be beneficial to have another Order member on the grounds. Even with the added wards and Auror presence, one can never be too careful when it comes to the safety of children."

"To keep the children safe, you release upon them a werewolf," Snape raised his brow. "It's no small wonder the Ministry thinks you're ..."

"Completely barmy?" Dumbledore interrupted loudly, a stitch of anger present in his tone. "Two apples short of a bushel? Tell me Severus, do you hold the same opinion as they?"

The younger wizard's only response was to roll his eyes and silently walk over to the window. As he peered down onto the grounds, he suddenly wished the view had been of the lake instead.

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "Remus has been extremely vigilant in his taking of the Wolfsbane. He has learned his lesson and shall not allow himself to slip-up as he did before. He is an excellent Defense teacher - I think even you can agree."

A snort emanated from the direction of the window.

"Severus, believe me when I tell you that I know Remus Lupin is not as strong or as powerful a wizard as you are. He is not as well-versed in the Dark Arts and their prevention as you are, but he is still an exceptionally talented individual who has plenty to offer our students." Dumbledore paused for a moment and sank down into one of the chairs. "You have no idea how desperately I wish I could place you in that position, Severus, but you and I both know Voldemort would try to use that to his advantage. He would not allow you to prepare the students to the level which you would desire them to be. If I can avoid putting more pressure on you, I will do what I can."

_As long as it suits your needs_. Snape closed his eyes briefly before willing himself to nod.

"Besides, you would have been brewing his Wolfsbane potion whether he were here or not." Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively as he continued. "Having Professor Lupin in the castle is something that asks no extra effort on your part - except in civility, perhaps. I fully expect that the two of you will be able to work together on good terms."

Snape rolled his eyes again, but made no attempt to move away from the window.

"Remus is a good man, Severus, and despite your history together, he trusts you."

"You are mistaken, Albus." Snape glanced towards the Headmaster. "Lupin's trust is in you. Any faith he has in me is... simply the residue of that."

A small smile appeared on the old man's face. "Trust is a many-layered thing, my dear boy. There is nothing simple about it. Surely you must realize this."

Severus took in a deep breath as he considered those last phrases.

"Something else on your mind?" Dumbledore asked with a cautious gaze.

The Potions Master cleared his throat and folded his arms across his chest. He dropped his eyes to the floor as he organized his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "You told me the other day that Miss Granger suspects my involvement in her parents' deaths."

"Yes," the elder man nodded. "That is true."

"Did she tell you this herself," Snape asked, raising his eyes. "Or did you see it?"

A strange look crossed over the Headmaster's face as he turned his eyes instead to the fire. "As I told you before, Severus - Miss Granger was able to clear everything from sight during our session together."

Severus frowned, stepping towards him. "Are you attempting to tell me you did not peer into her mind unannounced, or perhaps you are saying that she was able to block you from doing so without her knowledge? You cannot seriously expect me to believe _that_...not when every time I stand before you, I feel the tugging of your curious gaze pulling at the edges of my conscience, trying to pry its way in. Do not lie to me, sir - I beg of you!"

Closing his eyes, Dumbledore dropped his head until his chin nearly rested upon his chest. "Miss Granger did not articulate her fears in words, no."

Snape allowed his anger to dissipate into a nervous sigh. "Was there anything else you may have..._discovered_...that she is not...comfortable, perhaps, with me knowing?"

The Headmaster glanced back at his subordinate with renewed curiosity. He appeared to be deep in thought for a few moments before standing quickly from his chair. "Before I tell you, you must agree not to seek punishment for something that happened so long ago."

His eyes narrowed greatly, but the younger wizard slowly nodded his head.

"You do recall, several years ago, an incident with polyjuice potion? Yes, I'm quite sure you do. And I'm sure you must have gathered by now that it was Miss Granger who was capable of brewing such a potion at that age." Dumbledore stopped to watch the expression on the younger man's face. "But while you have blamed Harry all these years for stealing from your stores, it was, in fact, Miss Granger who nicked the necessary ingredients from your supplies."

"She..did...WHAT?" Severus balled his hands up in tight fists and let out an angry huff of air. Of course he had known she had been the one to brew it - of the three, she was the only one who could even be considered capable of successfully completing a batch of a NEWT-level potion at the age of thirteen. To even momentarily think Potter or the Weasley boy capable of doing so _now_ was laughable. He had also known that she spent a fair amount of time after their little experiment in the hospital wing being de-furred. He had felt her shame of that moment as he strode through her memories not four hours before.

He had not known, though, that Hermione was a thief. The knowledge of that, however, was frustrating him less than was the knowledge that he had not been able to extract that particular memory from her consciousness. Setting his face into a stern grimace, he rounded on the older man.

"When you... forced... your way into her mind, were there any gaps?" Severus began pacing. "Was there any information...were there any thoughts or memories that should have been there, but weren't? Were there blank spots, or black spots - or floating black orbs, more specifically?"

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes in utter confusion as he watched the man turn back and forth. "I don't understand, Severus. Everything was there. What are you getting at? What do you mean by floating orbs?"

Snape stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped slightly as realization struck him. "They're not there...because she doesn't trust me."

"Who aren't there?" The Headmaster asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "Severus?"

"No," Snape answered, already half way to the door. "I have to go."

"We aren't finished!" Dumbledore called after him. "You will find me in my office, and I await an explanation!"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus quickly made his way onto the castle grounds, where he found Hermione perched atop a large boulder at the edge of the lake. Her eyes were closed, and her body seemed quite relaxed - as though she were asleep.

"Miss Granger!" he shouted, stepping close to her.

Hermione's eyelids flew open, and she let out a small squeal of surprise as she nearly fell off the rock.

"Merlin's beard," she panted, covering her heart with her hand. "You just about killed me."

Snape rolled his eyes. "How fortunate, then, that I was unsuccessful."

Hermione glared as she regained her balance. "I was only doing what _you_ asked - trying to sort my head out. You could have given me some warning before shouting in my ear."

"My apologies, Miss Granger," he sneered. "It had appeared that you were asleep."

She shook her head. "I wasn't _sleeping_, sir. I was meditating, and I was -"

"Enough." He held up a hand, causing her voice to trail off into a whisper. "I interrupted your nap, Miss Granger, because I need you to answer a few questions. Now, do you trust Albus Dumbledore?"

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

Severus shook his head. "You are to _answer_ the questions, Miss Granger, not ask them. I shall repeat the first one - do you trust the Headmaster?"

Hermione looked no less confused, but slowly nodded. "Yes, of course I do."

"To what extent?"

"Erm, completely," she answered hesitantly. "I would... trust him with my life."

Snape gave one nod before quickly thrusting the next question before her. "In the same regard, do you trust _me_?"

Her mouth opened and closed several times as she tried to figure out how to answer. "I, uh -"

"The truth, Miss Granger," he instructed. "I desire nothing but absolute honesty in what you answer. Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she hissed angrily. "I trust you! Perhaps I shouldn't, but I do!"

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement. "How far, Miss Granger? Do you trust me as you do Professor Dumbledore?"

Hermione let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. After a moment, she shook her head. "No. Not completely. I mean, I would trust you with my life - I _do_ trust you with my life, but not..there are some things... Just not completely, sir."

Snape gave a long sigh of relief and leaned against a second boulder.

A puzzled expression was plastered upon the girl's face as she stared at him. A number of minutes passed silently before she gathered the courage to ask another question -or two. "Sir, what is this all about? Shouldn't you be angry that I don't trust you fully?"

"Never mind that," he muttered, staring at the slightly rippled water of the lake. He took in a large breath and then turned to meet her questioning gaze. "Miss Granger, suppose I were to tell you that the Headmaster was using you to spy on me - that he was sifting through your memories to make sure I have not lied to him and have only done what he asks. If I were to tell you this, how would it affect your opinion of him?"

"What?" she cried loudly, her eyes wide with shock. "What are you saying? Is he ... He wouldn't...You have to be..._What_?"

"Miss Granger," he reprimanded. "Answer the question!"

Though a shade paler than before, Hermione seemed to calm down quickly as her logic took over the task. Her brow furled in concentration as she considered the implications of his query. _Could it possibly be true? Could Dumbledore be capable of that?...Don't kid yourself, Hermione -you know he is. Just look at the way he handles Harry. What would make him treat you any differently? What would make him treat anyone any differently?_

Hermione sighed and fiddled with the cuff of her jumper. "I suppose...if that were true...then I wouldn't trust him as much as...as I thought I might."

Severus gave a stiff nod and pushed away from the boulder. He quickly turned from her and began striding back towards the castle.

"Wait!" Her head snapped up immediately and she scrambled down from the boulder. "Just what in the buggering hell was this all about?"

"Language, Miss Granger," he chided without slowing. "Now stop dawdling!"

"Dawdling? What?" Hermione whispered before hurrying after him. "Where are you going?"

"_We_," Snape corrected, tilting his head to give her a haughty smirk, "have an appointment with the Headmaster."


	19. Realization

**A/N: Thank you all so much! I missed my intended posting deadline by 24 hours...dang it! I had some unforeseen events unfold that I rather wish hadn't. But anyways, a week's better than three, right? **

**To the reviewers I haven't responded to yet, I apologize...I will get on those soon. Thank you much to LoveSnape11, Russian Flower, tennis14321432, lostmariner4803, angellicious02, Mel, KittyPimms, Lover of Fantasy, 83annak, HPFanGirl01, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, sweet-tang-honney, Startled Boris, Sic Vita Est, becknox71270, TakumaAngel, Petite Mule, Odile1001, Angelwells, Sisterhood, Lonely Road, linda, Loyd1989, cairoh, BlooDsucKkerR69, kraco, DedicatedReader, MadamigellaSnape, sevurus grissom, MCannon5887, and Lucente! I am excited to have so many reviews!**

**I didn't get as far as I wanted in this chapter, but since I don't know how much time I'll have this week - I figured I'd post something for you!  
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**Chapter 19**

Albus Dumbledore practically jumped out of his chair, scattering papers as he flew around his desk when he heard his office door being flung open.

"Severus!" he shouted angrily. "Just what the devil were you doing? I had _not _dismissed you, nor were we finished discussing our -"

The Headmaster choked back his tirade as he caught sight of Hermione standing beside the Potions Master. He gave a slight shake of his head and almost immediately re-donned the grandfatherly persona for which he was so well-known. "Miss Granger, how unexpected of you to join us."

Hermione swallowed nervously, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at the elderly wizard before her.

"It is, isn't it?," Snape answered, knowing full well the remark was not directed at the girl. He touched her shoulder to capture her attention and then directed her towards the nearest chair.

She nodded hesitantly and quickly seated herself. When she cast another uncertain glance at the Head wizard, Severus failed to hide his grin.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my dear girl?" Dumbledore asked, stepping closer to the pair of them.

Snape cleared his throat, answering in her stead. "Miss Granger has returned for another Occlumency session with you, Albus - to test her more..._advanced_ technique."

From the corner of his eye, he could see the near-horrified expression upon the girl's face as her eyes locked onto his form. "But, sir, I haven't-"

"Silence," he commanded before turning back to the Headmaster with a smirk. "I assure you, she is quite ready."

"Severus," Dumbledore stated in a cautionary tone. "Exactly what are you getting at? I'm not sure I understand what you're up to."

Snape shrugged. "Call it a theory, Albus. As for my most recent actions, you may consult Miss Granger. She was privy to all that I may have done...and all that I may have _said_."

With his final word, he turned and fixed Hermione with a pointed stare. He dipped his head slightly when he saw the light of recognition appear in her eyes, and she flicked her wide-eyed gaze towards the other wizard.

Dumbledore was glancing between the two of them with suspicion. Finally he shook his head, slipping his wand from his robes as he strode towards the seated girl. Before perching on the edge of his own chair, he turned his attention to the wizard behind him. "Very well, Professor. Though I will require an explanation -from_ you_ - when I have finished."

Severus gave a sweeping bow. "Of course, sir."

The head wizard narrowed his eyes at the other man, but then smiled as he turned back to Hermione. "Alright then, Miss Granger - are you ready to proceed?"

The girl shot a pleading glance towards her Potions professor, but when he offered her nothing in return save for an empty stare, she exhaled and nodded glumly.

With a comforting wink, Dumbledore patted her knee softly before raising his wand.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus felt his lip twitch as he spotted a glimmer of frustration appear upon the Headmaster's face. He had remained absolutely vigilant as the event transpired, and now, as Dumbledore cancelled the spell, he knew his theory had been correct.

Hermione barely even twitched in her seat as she stared at the floor in disappointment.

_She's completely ignorant_, Snape surmised, shaking his head as he crossed to her side. Placing a firm hand under her elbow, he pulled her from the chair and began escorting her to the office entrance.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "But I did try to tell you I wasn't -"

"Good evening, Miss Granger," he interrupted, pulling open the door and forcing her out onto the stairs. "I will call for you in the morning."

"But wait!" she shouted as he made to shut the door. "I don't understand."

Snape smiled darkly and closed the door in her face. He heard her cry out in exasperation and kick the corner of the door.

"Severus, if you're attempting to make a point," Dumbledore began, rising from his seat. "I'm afraid Miss Granger is not the only one who fails to grasp it."

The younger wizard turned to face the room. At the sight of the victorious grin he displayed, the Headmaster lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "You've discovered something, haven't you?"

"I could see them, Albus - every memory you called forth," Snape explained, stepping into the center of the room. "It's different than when I'm performing the spell, however. I believe I am seeing them as she does."

Dumbledore nodded and made his way to his desk. He bent down to straighten the stack of papers he had dispelled earlier. "And this is what has you looking like the cat who ate the canary?"

"Not quite," Snape answered, crossing his arms smugly across his chest. "Though it is because of this that I have the privilege of knowing she lied to you."

The Headmaster's head snapped up and his gaze immediately fixed upon his subordinate's form.

"Rather unexpected of her, wouldn't you agree?" Severus smirked.

Dumbledore straightened to his full height as he considered the implications of the previous statement. "You mentioned earlier an anomaly in her memories - floating black orbs, you said."

The Potions Master nodded, allowing the elder wizard to continue his thought.

"I happened upon a couple this time - the most notable was dancing about your conversation by the lake." Dumbledore absently stroked his beard as he recalled the experience. "Most curious, I do agree."

"As I understand it," Snape began, " any particular item she doesn't trust you to see simply..._slips_ through your fingers."

The eyes of the Headmaster narrowed considerably as they returned to their earlier scrutiny. Severus sighed lightly as he again felt the familiar niggling on the corner of his mind. With a small shake of his head, he pushed forward the memory of the lakeside encounter through his Occlumency shields and waited almost patiently for Dumbledore to finish viewing it. Within a few minutes he felt the presence quickly withdraw from his mind.

A dark expression had erupted onto the elder wizard's face. The corner of his eye twitched in anger as his gaze bore through his colleague. "Exactly what would possess you to tell Miss Granger that I was using her in such a manner?"

Snape shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the Headmaster's raised voice. "I was testing a theory, and seeing as you are the only other Legilimens currently at my disposal, I deemed it necessary. Though, I am curious, Albus, which angered you more - that I could have done such a thing, or that Miss Granger could believe you capable of it?"

A small twinkle re-appeared in Dumbledore's eye, replacing the former ire, as he turned back to his desk.

"Or perhaps," the younger man continued in an indifferent tone, "it's because I've actually figured out what _you're_ up to."

"Severus, if I didn't know better, I would think you were serious in your accusations," Dumbledore said with a grin. "And if you are, you're as batty as I am."

"Highly improbable," Snape scoffed. "Besides, I didn't actually _say_ that was what you were doing - I merely presented the girl with a hypothetical situation."

A loud chuckle emanated from the Headmaster as he gathered his robes and sat in his chair. "So you did, my boy, so you did. Very carefully worded...but then again, I would expect nothing less from you. Now, what does this mean?"

"What it means," Severus answered, taking several steps towards the desk, "is that little chit has been occluding me since we started!"

Dumbledore leaned back against his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests. "She doesn't know?"

"Completely oblivious."

Albus let out a slow breath. "Will it hold?"

"The Dark Lord's ministrations are far less gentle than yours, assuredly," Snape responded after a moment's consideration. "But with any luck, and a fair amount of strength on Miss Granger's part, it just might."

Dumbledore nodded gravely and leaned forward. "We must hope for the best, then. And now, Severus, I do really have some suggestions for your syllabus."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"But wait!" Hermione shouted, nearly in a panic as the door began to close. "I don't understand."

The haughty smirk adorning his face as he shut the door made her skin crawl.

"ARRRGH!" she cried out as she delivered an angry kick to the office door. Tears of frustration began to well up in her eyes as she punched the wall.

"Stupid arse," she hissed, attempting to shake the pain from her hand. Hermione dropped her arms to her sides and sucked in a deep breath in an effort to calm down. Uttering a string of expletives, she spun on her heel and descended the spiral staircase. Upon reaching the bottom, she closed her eyes in despair and collapsed onto the foot of the large stone gargoyle.

Quivering with rage, she ran a hand through her unruly hair. _What the hell is he playing at? He knew! He _knew_ I wasn't ready, and yet he _still_ dragged me in there! For what? To parade my failures in front of the Headmaster? To mock me? Bastard. Git. I hate him! Doesn't he realize how hard I am trying? I am trying as hard as I can! But even that isn't good enough for him. No! He has to take my inadequacies and throw them in my face! Stupid, bloody bastard. I hate - _

"Hermione?"

The sound of her name pulled her from her mental tirade. She glanced up to see Lupin staring at her, his head tilted in concern.

"Remus!" she gasped quietly, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes and rising to her feet. "Erm, hello."

He gave her a small, strained smile. "Hello to you, as well. Were you waiting to see the Headmaster?"

Hermione quickly glanced beyond the gargoyle and shook her head. "No, I already met with him. I was just, erm, kicked out as it were."

"Professor Dumbledore kicked you out?" Remus asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

She found herself giving a small giggle in spite of the situation. "No, no, of course not. Though, he didn't exactly raise much of an objection when I was."

"Ah, I take it Professor Snape must be in need of counsel, then," he remarked, raising his eyes briefly in the direction of the Headmaster's office.

"In need of counsel-_ing_ is more like it," she muttered heatedly under her breath.

Remus chuckled softly as he returned his gaze to her face. "As true as that may be, I think the same could be said for most of us."

_You have no idea, Professor._ Hermione nodded, blinking back the urge to cry as she stared at her feet. _No idea at all._

"Dumbledore mentioned your situation in the staff meeting this afternoon," he began suddenly, concern etched into his voice. "How are you doing?"

Hermione lifted her head quickly, her eyes widening in panic. _What EXACTLY did he mention?_ she wanted to scream, but instead she quickly fought to regain composure. "I'm, uh, handling it, I suppose."

_Handling it? You suppose? Merlin, you're a horrible liar. One look at you, and Voldemort's going to zap you into a million pieces_. An angry voice sounded at the back of her conscience. _Well, at least you'll take that ugly, cold-hearted git with you._

Lupin seemed to accept her answer, however, as he nodded. "Your parents? Are they someplace safe?"

_Apparently Dumbledore didn't reveal everything. Obviously, or he wouldn't have mentioned Snape so passively._ Hermione chewed on her lip as she debated how to answer. Surprisingly, she found she had responded before even realizing she had opened her mouth to speak. "They are. They're somewhere, I think, where no one will be able to hurt them."

"I am very glad to hear that," he responded, a relieved expression melting onto his face. He seemed ready to ask another question, which spurred her to speak further.

"Um, Professor? Could we not talk about this anymore? I really don't want to talk about it right now."

Remus gave a sympathetic smile and nodded. "Of course, Hermione. Forgive me - I didn't mean to intrude."

"It's alright," she whispered, her face flushing in embarrassment. " It's just that...I'm just so tired of thinking about it all."

"I understand. There is no need to explain." He glanced both directions down the empty corridor and then turned back to face her. "May I escort you somewhere? Unless you've more to discuss with Professor Dumbledore -"

"No!" she interrupted quickly. "I've had just about enough of the-er, him - for today. I mean, I was heading back to Gryffindor Tower. I wouldn't mind company."

Remus dipped his head and waited for her to take the lead.

"Have you seen much of Harry?" she asked as they started walking. "I really haven't heard anything from him this summer. I know how hard it must be for him - and you, too - to lose Sirius like that, and I really wish I could have been there for him. I mean, I tried writing him earlier this summer, but then everything happened, and I've just been so...so preoccupied. I feel terrible."

The unkempt wizard gave a mournful smile as she rambled on, almost uncontrollably. When they had reached the stairs, she finally paused for breath, and he took the opportunity to reply. "I have not seen as much of him as I would have liked, but I did manage to spend some time with him at the Burrow last week. He's still hurting, understandably of course, but I think he has come to terms with it, for the most part."

Hermione nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. "I feel like ages have passed since I saw him last. I can't believe it's only been a matter of weeks."

"I imagine so," he replied, meeting her eyes as they waited for the staircases to stop moving. "You and Harry have had to deal with so much in your few years. You've had to grow up so quickly, and I deeply regret the necessity of it all."

She swallowed nervously as she stepped onto one of the floating staircases. Biting her tongue, she resolved herself to do nothing more than listen. He was so easy to talk to, she feared what might spill out if she let herself go unchecked.

As if sensing this, Remus began talking again to break the silence. "He's looking forward to seeing you, Harry is, as are the Weasleys. The youngest Mr. Weasley, I believe, may be especially anxious."

_Oh, Ron_. Hermione closed her eyes in a silent sigh. She could feel her cheeks burning as the professor glanced down at her.

"Oh?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly. She was vaguely aware that he continued speaking, though she had no idea as to what was actually said. Her mind was reeling over what she would do regarding Ron. It was not even three weeks ago that she would think of him with a sly grin on her face, and now she was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. For the past year she had been hoping he felt the same for her as she felt for him, and now that it seemed he did, she desperately wished that it could not be true. _What_ _if he asks? He's _going_ to ask. Oh God, what do I say?_

"Well, Hermione," Remus interrupted her thoughts as they arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait. "If you're ever in need of someone to talk to - about _anything_ - my door is always open to you."

"Thank you, Professor," she responded with a tight smile.

He began to turn away, but stopped momentarily. "Oh, and try not to let Professor Snape get to you too much. He has a lot on his plate, and sometimes, he forgets to use table manners."

She nodded quickly, forcing a small laugh, and watched as he walked back towards the stairs. When he disappeared from sight, her smile vanished. She knew Lupin had said it in good humor, but the truth made it sting.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

_Love potions!_ Severus angrily slammed a textbook onto his desk. "The man has completely lost his mind!"

"Yes, you've been saying this for years," McGonagall responded, flopping down in the chair that was still transfigured to be an over-stuffed armchair. She glanced down at the faded brown color in disdain and, with a wink, turned it a very vibrant maroon. Feeling quite satisfied with herself, she turned her attention back to the raging man before her. "I happen to agree with you, but in the spirit of curiosity, what has he done this time?"

"Love potions, Minerva," he spat with a glare. "He wants me to supplement my sixth-year lectures with a section on _love_ potions."

Minerva bit her lip to keep from laughing as she watched him pace.

"Love potions! Honestly!" he ranted. "We have enough problems as it is trying to keep those hormone-charged miscreants out of each others' robes long enough to sit their classes. How half of them manage to make it through their N.E.W.T.S without procreating is an absolute miracle - dumb luck, more than likely."

"Well, that and the contraceptive potions carefully stashed away in their trunks," she interrupted, thoughtfully.

"Yes, thank you, Madam," he hissed, briefly pausing in his steps. "And now, the old coot expects me to arm them with substances to further inflame their sex drives and lower their inhibitions! The thing with dumb luck is it only lasts so long before it bites you in the arse!"

McGonagall could not contain her laughter any longer. "Oh, Severus. You sound as though he expects you to stand at the door and pass out vials of Amortentia with a smile on your face as you tell them to have fun."

Snape froze mid-step and turned to glare at her. "I hardly think this is as funny as you make it out to be. Just because I'm not handing it out like he does his cursed sherbet lemons, does not mean it isn't dangerous."

"Of course not," she agreed, tempering her chuckles. "But the probability of any of them successfully brewing it, even in the controlled environment of the classroom, is slim. Imagine all of the scathing comments you can hurl at them while they try."

"That isn't the point." He shook his head in frustration. "All it takes is one imbecile who fancies himself quite the potioneer. It won't matter how far the brew is from acceptability - any deviation could have disastrous consequences."

Minerva sighed. "I think you may be over-reacting a bit, Severus."

"Just because your House lacks the subtlety to successfully slip something into a fellow student's food without being caught does not mean I am over-reacting."

"Well," she rolled her eyes. "You'll just have to use that Slytherin eye of yours to catch the rest."

Snape snorted. "Since I have all that free time on my hands, I must need something with which to occupy myself."

"You can teach the theory without actually giving the instructions, you know," McGonagall stated with a smirk. "As I recall, Horace Slughorn used to teach it without any major mishaps."

"Slughorn was an idiot." He straightened his robes. "I'm sure he never bothered to tell the Headmaster just how many bezoars I had to shove down students' throats in the weeks following those lectures. After a while, I had to set out a bowl of them in the common room."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," she chuckled. "Though, Horace did seem to think rather highly of you."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Hardly."

"You did make his wall," Minerva offered with a shrug.

"I can die happy."

"Well, as long as you're happy, Severus." She fixed him with a smile as she adjusted her robes. "How are things coming with Miss Granger?"

He took one glance at the cat-like grin on her face and sighed. "He told you, didn't he?"

"It took you two weeks to figure it out, eh?" she nodded with a smirk. "That must sting."

"Why are you in my office?" He glared. "I don't recall asking you here."

The deputy headmistress exhaled loudly. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Shocking," he sneered, finally sitting on his desk chair. "And you figured the best way to warm me up was to insult me."

"Of course," she grinned. "It's worked so well in the past."

At her sudden hesitance to speak, he wiped a hand over his face. "Why do I get the distinct impression that this has to do with Potter?"

"A fortnight quicker than your last deduction. Most impressive." A certain mirth danced in her eyes, but still she wrung her hands in her lap. "I was hoping you might consider accepting him into your Advanced Potions class."

"No!" He shouted as he leaped out of his chair. "Absolutely not!"

"Severus, please -"

"No!" He spat again. "The rest of the staff may throw themselves to the floor and let the Chosen One walk over them, but I assure you, Madam, I will not!"

"I think you're being a tad unreasonable, don't you?" She asked, having visibly stiffened at his accusation.

"What's _unreasonable_," he responded, rounding his desk and moving closer to her, "is expecting me to treat him as though he's better than everyone else - everyone who earned the right to be there. Miss Granger earned her way in. Draco bloody Malfoy earned his way in. Potter had his chance. If he had _earned_ it, I would be more than hap - I would let him in. But, The-Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-a-nuisance couldn't be bothered to study enough for his Potions O.W.L., and as such, he will remain unregistered for my class."

Minerva let out a large sigh. "Very well. No one can say I didn't try."

She rose from the chair and began walking towards the door. Stopping suddenly, she turned her upper body towards him and shrugged. "You're right, Severus. I shouldn't have asked you to bend the rules. I just thought, perhaps, that Miss Granger might appreciate a friendly face in that particular class. But, of course, you're right."

Facing the door to hide her smirk, she could hear his sharp intake of breath. After a few silent moments in which she knew he was staring at the ceiling, battling himself internally, he let out a mumbled curse word.

"Fine," he hissed as she expectantly turned around. Raising his pointed finger, he added, "But, so help me, if you request that pea-brained Weasley be let in as well, I will not hesitate to throw myself from the Astronomy Tower - Miss Granger's future be damned."

A sly grin appeared on the elder witch's face. "A bit over-dramatic, as usual. However, I do agree Mr. Weasley's..._talents_...are best left outside of the Potions Classroom."

After thanking him sincerely, she made her way to the door. With a swishing of her green robes, she disappeared into the hallway.

Snape sighed deeply and collapsed into the armchair. He rubbed his temple in frustration and then dropped his hand onto the arm rest. Glancing down at it, he narrowed his eyes suddenly and jumped to his feet.

"What the bloody hell did you do to my chair, woman!"


	20. Rising Discomfort

**A/N: Hope you all had a wonderful holiday season! I've been so busy, but I finally have internet again and the time to give you all an update! Classes start tomorrow, but I hope to have some time to get some more typed up over the weekend.**

**Special hugs to all who reviewed - LoveSnape11, KittyPimms, Lover of Fantasy, HPFanGirl01, Russian Flower, Startled Boris, Angelwells, woodshark, Mel, tennis14321432, becknox71270, Petite Mule, Raven Potter Weasley, sweet-tang-honney, Gabrielle Rickman Snape, Sisterhood, Lucente, angellicious02, BlooDsucKkerR69, McNasty4Slytherins, MCannon5887, Tilda, Odile1001, Bigbeary, Penelope Lane, Dial595escape, and DedicatedReader!**

**Disclaimer: I should have mentioned this earlier, but I in no way, shape, or form condone the act of rape. I am using it only as a plot device.  
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**Chapter 20  
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"Do you trust me?" His black eyes pierced through her soul as his dark hair whipped about in the grey wind. The sky was growing darker, and leaves were spiraling about their feet. She could hear the waves of the lake splashing against the rocks beside them. Suddenly, he grabbed onto the collar of her shirt and pulled her close to his face. "Answer me, Miss Granger! Do you trust me?"

Hermione felt the tears streaming down her face as she stared into his pale, angry face. Finally, she found her voice. "Yes! I trust you!"

Laughter erupted as day immediately turned into night. The wind was gone, replaced by an eerie stillness. Still, Snape kept her drawn close to his body. Panic settled into the pit of her stomach as his eyes became suddenly maniacal, and she attempted to pull away from his grasp. As hard as she fought, however, she could not break his hold on her.

"Excellent, Severus," a cold voice hissed from the dark. The nearly translucent figure of Voldemort appeared next to the shoulder of her Potions Master. "So easily manipulated, aren't they?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape replied with a smirk.

When he dropped his hands from her and stepped back, Hermione saw that she had a chance to flee. Her attempt was futile, though, as she suddenly found herself magically bound in place. Panic exploded into absolute fear as the high cackling of Bellatrix LeStrange mixed with the deeper chuckling of the Dark Lord. She whipped her head around to find the face of the man who was _supposed_ to keep her safe - the man she had _trusted_ to keep her safe. Everywhere she turned, Death Eaters stood before her, grinning viciously. Her breaths were short and shallow until finally, there he was, looming above her.

"Why?" Tears streamed down her face as her voice squeaked with hysteria. "I _trusted_ you!"

Snape raised an eyebrow as he brought his lips next to her ear. "Then perhaps you shouldn't have."

"No!" Hermione cried out as she attempted to move away from him and failed. Rough stone cut into her back, and the deep chill that settled onto her body made her realize she had been stripped of her clothes. She whimpered in terror as a pale hand traced an icy path across her bare thigh.

"Severus," Voldemort cooed from somewhere near her feet. "Please enjoy what I have bequeathed you."

"I thank you," the younger wizard drawled before she heard the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor. Within seconds, his face appeared above hers and she could feel his naked erection pressing into her hip.

"No, no, _no_!" Hermione shouted as she struggled beneath his weight. Somehow she managed to free one of her hands and quickly struck him across the face.

Snape hissed briefly in pain, but captured her free hand in one of his and began to squeeze. "You're only making this harder on yourself."

"Go to hell!" she spat, unable to remove her eyes from his dark stare.

"I plan to!" He shouted back as a frenzied grin swept across his features. His grip on her hand became tighter and tighter until suddenly she heard the cracking of bones, and an intense pain shot up her arm. As she teared up in response to it, Snape threw her injured hand back against her chest. He then roughly forced her thighs apart and immediately thrust himself into her.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Wakened by her own blood-curdling scream, Hermione flew forward into a seated position. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she gasped for air. Her pajamas were drenched in sweat, and she shivered as the drafty castle air quickly chilled her.

"It was just a dream...just a dream," she repeated to herself. Her heart was beating erratically as her eyes darted around the room. Save for Crookshanks, who was purring at her from the foot of the bed with concern, she was entirely alone in the dark tower. There were no Death Eaters lurking from the shadows, no Voldemort to derive pleasure from her pain, and Snape was several stories away - nowhere within reach of her.

She let out a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Everything had felt so real in the dream. The pain had been unimaginably real. She could still feel the rough rock being shoved against her spine, and her right hand was throbbing in agony.

Hermione startled with a squeak when she felt something touch her thigh. Snape's sneering face flashed before her eyes, but after thrashing fearfully about in the bed, it was only the face of a ginger cat that stared up at her. Upon noticing his flattened ears and frightened look, she reached a shaky left hand out towards him.

"I'm sorry, Crooks." Her heart was pounding, and she felt as though something else was going to grab her at any second. Her feline familiar seemed to sense this, and chose to watch her from a safe distance away.

When her heartbeat had slowed to a relatively normal pace, she flopped back against her pillows and tried closing her eyes. Eventually, she gave up and just stared at the canopy of her bed. Her nightmare seemed to be etched into the back of her eyelids, as every attempt to sleep launched her back in the midst of the terror.

And the aching just would not go away. It did not matter how she readjusted herself against the mattress - she still felt as though something were pressing against her back. Sighing in frustration, she ran her right hand through her hair and immediately shrieked in pain. Tears unconsciously welled up in her eyes as she sat up and grabbed for her wand with the other hand.

"Lumos," she whispered before blinking in shock from the harsh light emitting from her wand-tip. When her eyes had adjusted, Hermione moved the light over her sore hand. She gasped at the sight of a large, purple bruise forming across her knuckles and running down the side of her hand.

"What?" Her jaw dropped slightly as her face contorted in confusion. Gingerly, she touched one fingertip to the center of the bruise. Wincing in pain, she instantly regretted it.

_It can't be._ Carefully cradling her injured hand against her chest, she slipped out from her bed and padded into the small bathroom.

"Incendio," she stated with a flick of her wand. The three candles upon the wall cast a cheery glow about the room. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut tightly before glancing down at her hand. The nasty bruise was still there.

_But it was only a dream. I only dreamt that he broke my hand - how could it be real?_ Her eyes snapped up to meet her own reflection in the mirror as she finally remembered. She had been so preoccupied with her anger towards Snape that she had forgotten about punching the wall.

"Damn it," she hissed. Thinking back, she vaguely recalled a small crunching sound, and then realized that the pain had never really gone away afterwards.

Sucking in a deep breath, she pointed her wand at her hand and said "Episkey" as clearly as she could. When nothing happened, Hermione frowned and repeated the spell. A small popping sound was heard, and she groaned with the sudden pain it produced. Her hand, however, did not seem healed at all.

"Episkey, episkey, episkey!" she shouted desperately. As each attempt failed, tears formed in her eyes as she sank down to the floor. She caught sight of Crookshanks standing in the doorway. "Why won't it work?"

The cat's only response was to swish his tail and blink.

Hermione eventually curbed her sniffling, and wiped away the tears with her uninjured hand. She considered venturing to the Hospital Wing to wake Madam Pomfrey, who could certainly fix it. In the midst of rising to her feet, she bumped into the sink and the sudden pang that jolted across her lower back reminded her that her hand was not the only tender body part. _The hand I can explain, but what about _that_? I couldn't have done anything to cause it. I'd have to tell her about the dream, wouldn't I?_

Closing her eyes, she descended back to the floor. She knew she would not be able to tell her. She did not wish to tell anyone. Undoubtedly Dumbledore - and likely Snape as well - would be privy to anything she said to the mediwitch, and that was something Hermione was not yet ready to face. The thought of Snape having knowledge regarding her nightmares was nearly unbearable.

_Wait._ Hermione clapped her left hand over her mouth. _What if he already knows? Oh God. What if he's seen them? He can hear my thoughts - can he see my dreams? All of those nightmares. Is that...That has to be why he gave me the Dreamless Sleep potion! Maybe he wasn't trying to be nice; he was just trying to get his own night's rest. It has to be that._

Scowling angrily, she leaned back against the leg of the sink. She had been thinking of asking for another vial of the potion as she had used the last of it earlier that evening. Her brow wrinkled in sudden confusion. _I used the potion! How could I even _have_ a nightmare? How am I even awake - I only went to bed a few hours ago. Why didn't it work?_

Nothing was making sense. Healing spells she had utilized before were not working. A powerful sleeping draught seemed to have no effect on her. She was having aches that were entirely inexplicable.

"What the bloody hell is happening to me?" she squeaked. She racked her brain for any possible explanation. Within moments, her mind hit upon a conversation that had taken place nearly a week prior.

"_Erm, Professor?" Hermione sighed as she shifted with uncertainty. When he acknowledged her, she fought to find the courage to speak. "When do we have to - I mean, when do the bonds have to be renewed?"_

_Snape halted his writing, but refused to meet her gaze. "That is not for me to say...In any case, you will be the one to know when it is necessary."_

"No, no, no," she breathed. Her stomach was churning suddenly, and her whole body had begun to shake. "It can't be! There has to be some other explanation!"

_'You must regularly submit yourself to me.'_

His pained whisper suddenly began playing over and over again in her head.

"No!" she cried loudly, grabbing the sides of her head as if to shut out the images that were spiraling through her conscience. "No, no, no!"

Everything that had happened that night, all of those nightmares, all of her fears - and he was going to touch her again. He was going to be inside of her again. He had to be, and she had to let him.

Bile rose sharply in her throat and she could do nothing to stop it. Lurching forward, she managed to catch the edge of the toilet bowl as she expelled the contents of her stomach. Tears streamed down her face as she wiped her mouth across her left arm and leaned against the toilet in defeat. After several tearful minutes, she pushed away from the toilet and slid to the ground.

Placing her cheek against the stone flooring and curling her body into a ball, Hermione let out a shuddering sigh.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus jolted awake, snapping his head up from his desk as her scream reverberated throughout his skull. Letting out a long sigh, he wiped a hand across his face and leaned back in his chair. His pulse was racing, the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end, and his stomach was flipping dangerously.

_'I _trusted_ you!' _Her fearful accusation seemed to hang in the stale dungeon air.

_It was only a dream_, he told himself. Letting out a long, deep breath and grabbing the edge of the desk to steady his shaking hands, Snape tried to mentally reassure himself that he would _never_ be that vociferous in his activities - even when called upon to perform in front of the Dark Lord himself. His heartbeat started to calm with the knowledge that there were no Death Eaters lurking in the corners waiting for him to fail, that there was no Voldemort demanding proof of his false loyalty, and that Miss Granger was several stories above him - sleeping soundly in her bed and far from his reach.

Scowling, he attempted to work the kinks out from his neck. He definitely had not intended to fall asleep at his desk, but a glance at his clock informed him that he had, in fact, done so nearly two hours before. He needed the rest, of course, but he knew there would be no further sleep that night. He could not close his eyes without seeing himself do everything to cause the look of sheer terror in her eyes.

_If I can't sleep, I might as well work._ Snape sighed, reaching for one of the books Albus had so graciously offered to loan him. The slim volume's cover read_ When Love Just Isn't Enough: A Look at the Theory Behind _Amortentia _by Edvine Lutgrand_.

"Teach the theory, eh, Minerva? I'd like to see you just '_teach the theory'_ of turning a rat into a matchbox - see how well you can assess their skill then." Cursing silently, he cracked open the book and began to read. Hardly five minutes had passed, however, before he sent the book sailing back across his desk.

"Idiot," he jeered, reaching for another book.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Soft fur brushed across her face and a deep purring noise assaulted her ears. Hermione groaned as she pushed away her cat. A short while later, the feline returned to butt his head against her nose.

"Go away, Crooks," she moaned without opening her eyes. Suddenly chilled, she blindly grabbed for the edge of the blankets to pull them up to her chin. When her fingers touched nothing but air and stone, Hermione threw her eyes open and sat up quickly.

She winced at the burning sensation that shot through her spine. In an instant, the memories of the night before flooded her mind and she took in a shaky breath. The flickering glow of the candles still lit the space around her, but she could see through the bathroom door into the expansive bedroom where light was beginning to slip through the windows. Hermione sighed, realizing she would have to soon face the day.

A sharp meow from Crookshanks pulled her from her thoughts. Rolling her eyes, she cautiously picked herself up from the floor. Careful not to bump her right hand against anything, Hermione slowly walked back into the bedroom.

Her fluffy ginger cat darted out ahead of her and gracefully hopped onto her neatly-made bed. A silver, covered serving tray had been placed atop the maroon duvet, and the feline had eagerly parked himself next to it.

"I should have known," Hermione muttered, scowling at the cat. Her stomach gave a spasm of hunger, but she swallowed anxiously knowing anything she tried to eat would not stay down anyway. When she pulled the metal cover from the tray, the smell of bacon and eggs immediately washed over her and sent her stomach turning in disgust. The sight of a small note tucked beside the toast gave her pause, and when she recognized the handwriting, she felt acid once again clawing its way up her throat. She dashed back to the toilet, dropping onto her knees just in time for the bile to erupt from her mouth.

Several minutes later, after having brushed her teeth repeatedly, Hermione glanced back into the room. Crookshanks sat happily upon the bed, licking the butter from the toast, having already devoured several strips of bacon. She raised a lip in disgust, closed the door, and turned towards the tub. She had showered before bed, but already she felt as though she were covered in a deep layer of filth. After carefully stripping out of her pajamas, she stepped into the boiling spray of water.

Curling up against the tile surround, she let the water stream down her spine. She hissed slightly as it first hit her wound, but then relaxed as the heat chased away the pain. Breathing slowly and biting her lip, she mulled over everything she had experienced the night before. Logic was telling her she had come to the right conclusion, and that she needed to face up to what was now required of her. On the other hand, however, her anxiety was screaming for her to find another explanation, claiming that, if ignored, the pain would eventually just go away. The past two weeks had been a constant battle between logic and emotion, but right now, as the memory of Snape forcing himself on her replayed over and over in her head, she knew her fear was winning.

Half an hour had passed before Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in an oversized towel. Cursing under her breath as she accidently knocked her injured hand against the door jamb, she tiptoed quickly across the bedroom to her armoire. Pulling out a change of clothes, she quickly slipped into them before taking a deep breath and stepping back over to her bed. Gathering her resolve, she snatched at the piece of paper tucked beneath the plate and quickly unfolded it.

**_Miss Granger,_**

**_As soon as is convenient, please meet me in my office._**

**_Professor S. Snape_**

Hermione crunched the note up into a ball and threw it against the wall. She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes, knowing it was best not to keep him waiting. _If only_, she thought,_ I could ignore _him_ as well as the pain. _

_As soon as is convenient._ She shook her head angrily and stalked out into the stairwell. _It's never going to be bloody convenient, you stupid arse._

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As Severus reached the door of his office, he halted in his stride and took a steadying breath. Hermione was waiting for him inside, and he could feel her anxiety radiating towards him in waves. He knew she was angry with him for his treatment of her the day before, but there was something else affecting her. A renewed sense of fear seemed to plague her thoughts - and his, subsequently.

Something else had been bothering him, as well. Their bonding was meant to allow him constant access to her mental and verbal processing, but there seemed to be gaps. It was as if her mind had gone completely silent for random spacings of time. When it happened during the night, he had assumed she had taken the sleeping draught. That is, until he had realized he had not given her enough for that many doses.

_Unless she's taking less than recommended_. It was plausible, he supposed, but then what would explain the gaps during the day? Clearly, she was not sleeping then. He was hearing fewer and fewer of her thoughts without trying as the days had progressed. He mulled over her newfound Occlumency skills as a possible reason for the occurrence, until he found his mind wandering to darker explanations. _ Could the magic already be wearing thin?_

With a stray thought to the time he was wasting in the hallway, Snape shook his head and pushed open the door.

Hermione sat rigidly in her chair, staring apprehensively at the assortment of books on his desk. As she appeared not yet aware of his arrival, he used the opportunity to wordlessly slip into her mind. He withdrew a minute later in mild disappointment. There had been no boundaries, no hidden scenes. He had hoped, perhaps, that her newly discovered talent for occluding was automatic in nature, but now he knew it still required her focus.

"Legillimens!" He shouted from his location in front of the door. The girl jerked in her chair and grimaced. Snape could sense her mental shields suddenly rising around him. Certain memories vanished before his eyes and exploded into the dark orbs he had become accustomed to seeing. Quickly cancelling the spell, he strode to his desk and whirled around to face her.

She swallowed nervously at the sight of him, and he could see was carefully cradling her right hand in her lap. His eyes narrowed as he recalled the vague sensation of pain he had come across in her mind.

"You must keep your guard up, Miss Granger, at all times," he explained as he studied her appearance. "The Dark Lord isn't going to politely request to enter your mind. He will penetrate it forcefully without word or warning."

Hermione nodded weakly, but looked as though she had been beaten. She shifted nervously under his scrutiny, wincing as she jarred her hand.

Raising a brow in concerned curiosity, Snape wordlessly accessed her conscience once more. Again, he encountered minimal resistance as he searched her mental-scape. For the moment, however, he was only interested in locating the memories that would explain what had happened to her hand. When he watched her punch the stone wall in aggravation and heard the resulting crack, he scowled and returned to his own head, feeling partially responsible for her outburst.

"Miss Granger, would you show me your hand?" he asked tersely.

A blush enflamed her cheeks as she closed her eyes and quietly uttered, "It's fine."

"Do not be an idiot, girl." Severus rolled his eyes as he sat on the edge of his desk. "Even that fool-headed Weasley of yours isn't blind enough not to notice you're in pain. Give me your hand."

She grimaced, first at his insult towards Ron and then at the knowledge that she could not defy a direct command from him. Not for very long, at any rate. Sighing, she slipped her right hand from her lap and held it out for him to see.

Gingerly, he took her hand in his and examined the bruising pattern. Snape swallowed heavily as scenes from his nightmare resurfaced. Letting out a small breath, he tried to shake the image of cracking the bones in her hand, and forced himself to remain objective. He tipped his head thoughtfully as he carefully brushed his thumb across her hand. "There appears to be a minor fracture in one of your metacarpals. You could hardly even call it broken."

_Well it feels bloody broken!_ Hermione frowned at him and suppressed the urge to yank her hand away. She did not wish him to touch her any longer than was necessary.

"So I've gathered," he muttered, sliding his wand from his sleeve. He gave it a tight twirl and clearly enounced, "Episkey!"

A loud pop resounded from her hand and her face contorted into a silent scream. The injury, however, remained unhealed.

Severus glanced up at her in surprise, his eyes widening as he watched her struggling to breathe through the pain.

"Don't you think I tried that!" she hissed angrily, as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. "Jesus Christ, that fucking _hurts_!"

"It's just a minor fracture," he repeated, shaking his head in shock. "It should have -"

He ended his words abruptly, dropping her hand and rising swiftly from his desk. His robes billowed outwards as he spun towards his bookshelf. Grabbing a large volume from the bottom shelf, he hauled it over to his work table and slammed it down loudly.

Hermione had immediately pulled her hand to her chest upon its release and now held it carefully by the wrist in her other hand. As the throbbing returned to its normal level, she glanced around the side of the chair and watched him pour over several pages.

"Professor?" she asked timidly, several minutes later. She flinched as he cursed and shoved the book from the table.

He ran a hand through his greasy hair and sighed as he considered another book that could be of use. When he remembered where he had shelved it, he quickly made for the door. Turning back briefly, he met her large eyes.

"Do not leave this room."

She shook her head a few times and watched as he disappeared into the hallway. Confused, she turned back to face his desk. Leaning her head back against the chair, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her heart had been racing ever since he had walked into the office.

_Get a grip, Hermione._ Opening her eyes, she once again glanced over the books on his desk. She could only make out partial titles, and she frowned as she strained her neck to see the rest. Eventually she rolled her eyes, stood from the chair, and crept towards them. Reaching a hand out, she pulled one out from the stack entitled _Imbibere Amor_. Flipping open the book to a random page, Hermione noted it was written entirely in what looked like Latin. Disinterested, she returned the book to its previous position and glanced nervously at the door. When she heard no noise beyond, she inched around the side of his desk and leaned over the book that had already been lying open. Pieces of parchment haphazardly tucked in, beneath, and around the volume were covered in his inky handwriting, clearly indicating to her that he had been extensively researching something. After checking the door once again, she quickly skimmed the visible pages.

"Although not as potent as _Amortentia_, the _Olvideregrete_ potion is still regarded as one of the most powerful brews, the use of which is ill advised in general society," she whispered almost inaudibly. "While _Amortentia_ can be used to attract its drinker to its creator, those who ingest _Olvideregrete_ experience a general loss of inhibition and are left unguarded against suggestive advances. The drinker is left unable to remember any reason why an act may be undesirable, and will later, as the name suggests, simply forget any regrets he or she may have."

After quickly scanning the included list of ingredients and physical description, Hermione pushed back from the desk in distaste.

_Love potions? I've never heard any students working with these in class before. Why would Snape be interested in them? They seem like something he would avoid at all cost_. Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth as she nervously glanced back at the book.

"Sounds more like a date rape drug than a love potion, to me," she stated with an angry scowl. Shaking her head as she walked away, she stopped to look into the cauldron that had been happily bubbling along since she had first arrived. As the scent of cinnamon wafted pleasantly towards her nose, she allowed her frown to melt into a small smile.

It quickly vanished, however, when the door to the office was unceremoniously thrown open.

"Miss Granger," Snape interrupted in a somewhat irritated manner. He barely lifted his eyes to address her. "What are you doing?"

"I, er, was just curious, sir," she quickly stammered. She felt as though her heart would explode if it beat any faster. "I thought maybe I could identify what you were brewing?"

Sighing, he returned his eyes to the book he was carrying. "And what has our resident know-it-all concluded?"

Hermione shifted nervously and took another look at the boiling liquid. "Erm, no idea."

"Imagine my shock," he mocked without so much as a glance in her direction. "It's an experimentation. You shouldn't be able to identify the concoction in whole."

"Oh," she sighed.

Severus gave a small snort and then seated himself at the work table. "If you would, Miss Granger, I need your hand again."

Biting her lip anxiously, she glanced at her bruised hand and back at her professor. She currently found herself more afraid of him touching her than she was of the pain. "Please, sir. I can just have Madam Pomfrey look at it later."

The wizard shook his head and gestured to the other chair at the table. "I can assure you that Madam Pomfrey will be as unable to heal the fracture as either of us were."

"You don't know that - " she began, but was quickly cut off.

"Sit," he barked.

"I'm not a dog!" she spat bitterly, stomping towards the table. When she sank huffily into the wooden chair, he quickly snatched her arm and pulled it onto the table.

"It is important that you do not squirm, Miss Granger. The spell I am about to perform is quite complex and requires absolute stillness."

"Fine," she sighed, molding her body to the chair. _Surprised he didn't threaten to put you in a body bind._

"As tempting as that may have been," he sneered, "I sincerely doubt its efficacy, though if you don't stop twitching, I will not hesitate to find out."

Hermione scowled, but resolved herself not to move.

Severus placed her hand in the palm of his left hand, and positioned his wand so it hovered a half-inch above her bruised knuckles. Expelling a large breath, he closed his eyes and began to recite the lengthy incantation. A shimmering, emerald-hued ribbon of light snaked out from the tip of his wand and slowly began to wrap itself around their connected hands.

She had absolutely no idea what he was chanting, but when a tingling began to arise in her hand, she glanced at him in surprise. His eyes were still closed, but his voice was steady and strong. The light seemed to pulsate with the rise and fall of his words, and the prickling in her fingers steadily increased the longer he continued. After several minutes, she heard his voice trail off and the deep green light soon vanished behind it. Within a minute, the strange sensation began to dissipate.

"Well?" he asked with an eyebrow raised.

Hermione quickly examined her right hand. The bruise was now quite yellowed, and the throbbing was all but gone. As she poked around the injury with her other hand, she found a surprising lack of pain. "How did you...I mean - what was that?"

Snape sniffed and rose from his chair. "An ancient healing spell that I've come across. It isn't practiced anymore, due to the use of much more effective and simpler spells. However, in your case, it seems the magic in your binding interferes with the newer magic. The bone is healed, but the rest of it may have to heal naturally."

"Oh," she muttered. _Maybe that's why the sleeping potion didn't work._

Whirling around in surprise, Severus cocked his head at her. "The Dreamless Sleep invigoration isn't working?"

_Damn._ Hermione scratched her neck nervously. "Er, well it did - before - but then, last night, it didn't."

With a pained sigh, he dropped into his desk chair and held his face in his hands. "Miss Granger, is there anything else you are currently experiencing that you have not yet seen the need to divulge?"

Realizing that he had probably hit upon the same conclusion she had last night, she instantly blanched and felt her knees knock together. She pulled together all of her strength to shake her head. "N-no. Not that I can think of, sir."

Snape raised his eyes in scrutiny of her face. Seemingly satisfied, he sighed again and waved at the armchair. When she had taken her place, he straightened his posture somewhat and rested his elbows on his armrests. "You will come to me when it is necessary, is that understood?"

Hermione nodded nervously. For a brief second, she had considered telling him about the burning in her lower back, but she quickly squelched that notion. It simply could not be the reason, and she did not need Snape jumping to the wrong conclusion - especially when considering what that would entail.

"Now then," he began with a small shrug of his head. "I feel I may owe you a small explanation of my actions yesterday."

_You think?_ She snorted quietly, receiving a minor glare from the Slytherin Head.

"During a conversation with the Headmaster, it was brought to my attention that there were some differences between the memories that he and I were able to extract from you through Legilimency -"

"What do you mean?" she interrupted edgily. "Professor Dumbledore was unable to see anything during our sessions, so how could -"

"Do try to refrain from further interruptions," he hissed with a dramatic glance to the ceiling. "_That_ is something else we must discuss, however, if I am allowed to continue - this may be of interest to you, seeing as it may just keep you amongst the living a little while longer."

After seeing the blush creep up to her hairline, he continued. "It was because of this occurrence that I believe you could possibly be an Innate Occlumens."

"An Innate Occlumens?" she asked, an incredulous look etched upon her face.

"Someone who has a natural aptitude for occluding," he explained with barely a trace of irritation. "Though, it seems your ability is more subconscious in its nature. You, so far, are only able to occlude when you are aware that your mind is being opened."

"But we were at it for days," she interjected, "and I couldn't keep you out without getting rid of everything."

Severus waved his hand lazily. "It only _appeared_ that way, Miss Granger, because you had already been keeping me from your more guarded memories. It was only after the Headmaster enlightened me to the fact that you are the reason I now keep my personal stores triple warded during class, that I understood. I was not able to discern for myself that you have a certain proclivity towards thievery, and it led me to realize that I could only view what you trusted me to see. Your little admission by the lake only strengthened my hypothesis."

_'Yes, I trust you!'_ Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione felt suddenly sick as the night's dream replayed in her mind. She rather regretted having to tell the brooding man anything about how much confidence she had in him.

"And," he continued with a long glance at the bubbling cauldron, "after planting that little seed of doubt in your head, I simply watched as the Headmaster's full access pass to your mind vanished into thin air."

Inhaling deeply, she risked a glance at his face. "So what you're saying is I'm occluding without knowing it? That doesn't seem highly probable."

"I can assure you, Miss Granger - nothing I have discovered about you in the past two weeks has seemed even remotely probable."

Unsure of whether to take the statement as a compliment or an insult, Hermione did her best to ignore it entirely, choosing to drop her gaze back to the floor.

"But yes," Snape continued. "You are quite adept at it. It appears you have some sort of subconscious control over your magic - you don't want something seen, and it naturally obliges you. Similar, of course, to when you physically ejected me from your mind.

"That being said, however, you need to be able to recognize when someone is attempting to gain access to your mind. You cannot rely on the intruder to give away his plan by actually verbalizing it. He will likely be able to accomplish it wordlessly and wandlessly." He sat forward in his seat and waited until she looked at him again before speaking. "You have to be able to sense it."

Hermione pulled her knees to her chest, and chewed nervously on her lip. "Professor Dumbledore has performed Legilimency on me without my consent?"

Severus nodded slowly. At seeing the green hue appear on her face, he cleared his throat. "Do not believe yourself to be his only victim, Miss Granger. The man has a predilection for knowing absolutely everything about absolutely everyone."

"Does he do it to you?"

With a small sigh and a roll of the eyes, he tried to think of a time he had not felt the mental tugging whilst in the Headmaster's presence. "He certainly tries."

"So he _has_ been using me to spy on you," she stated, frowning.

"Naturally," he agreed with an air of indifference. "However, seeing as I have nothing to hide, it does not trouble me."

"Well, it bothers me." She swallowed heavily and brought her eyes up to his. "You can tell, then, when he's doing it to you?"

Snape could plainly see the rage and feelings of betrayal swimming about in her gaze. He gave a stiff nod in acquiescence and straightened his posture. "Yes."

"And you can shut him out of everything?"

"If I wanted to," he drawled. "Though generally I only hide enough to be irksome. Some days, there's even a bit of sport involved."

Hermione sighed, oblivious to his attempt at humor. "I don't want _anyone_ going through my head without permission. Ever."

With a scrutinizing gaze, Severus studied her features. Determination was set ablaze upon them as she firmly held his stare for the first time in days. A trace of a smile graced his lips as he spoke. "Then I suggest we fix that before he has another chance to try."


	21. Renewing Bonds

**A/N: Since it's my birthday today, I figured I'd work extra hard to get this done and posted - my gift to you. Ha ha. **

**This chapter is a bit darker than some of the preceding ones...and honestly, I didn't think it was going to take me 21 chapters to get here. So thank you for putting up with the slow pace. It's going to be a LONG one.**

**Thanks especially to my reviewers: Startled Boris, Sisterhood, DedicatedReader, hnwhitlock2000, Raven Potter Weasley, JordanGoombette, hot4preacher, Lover of Fantasy, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, tennis14321432, KittyPimms, Lil Tine, HPFanGirl01, Tilly, Mel, Odile1001, sev01, ultimanoapte, Slytherin-Me, MadamigellaSnape, Dial595escape! I'll try to finish responding to them soon!  
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**Chapter 21**

When Hermione crawled into bed that night, she was completely exhausted. She had spent hours working to recognize and fend off his mental assaults. Snape, of course, had used the time to his advantage - preparing ingredients, completing brews, and scratching lines into a worn leather journal.

Yawning, she remembered how anxiety had twisted through her gut as she watched him calmly go about his business. There would be no warning before he struck - that much he had told her. He had also said that until she could properly hone her senses, she would never know he had been there. That was the thing that scared her the most. It was agonizing enough to allow him in during sessions, but the thought of someone - even the kind-hearted Dumbledore - entering without her knowledge or consent made her feel vulnerable and violated.

Those feelings were what motivated her to push through the session with Snape. She had been more than determined to succeed, and for the first hour or so, she made sure to keep her shields up at all times. She had thought that with her complete focus, she would be alerted to his presence.

Apparently she had been wrong.

_She heard Snape sigh loudly as he stirred a handful of chopped figs into the cauldron. Tapping the rod gently on the side of the cast iron, he reached for a small cloth and then wiped the rod clean. _

_"Miss Granger," he stated coolly, his eyes never straying from his work, "it is foolish, at this point, for you to utilize Occlumency constantly. Occluding drains your magic _and_ your energy. Your opponent would only have to outwait your stamina. Seeing as Legilimency takes much less effort, you would find yourself at a great disadvantage."_

_Hermione let out a large gust of air. "Didn't you say earlier that I should keep my guard up at all times?"_

_"Your guard, yes," he answered huffily. "Not necessarily your occlusion. You need to always be conscious of your surroundings and possible exposure, but you cannot waste your powers and still expect to live for any extended period of time." _

_She closed her eyes and pictured Mad Eye Moody shouting, _'Constant Vigilance!' _Slowly lifting her eyelids, she stared at the back of his robes. "Can I ask how you do it?"_

_His look was thoughtful as he turned towards her. After a brief pause, he spoke in an honest tone. "I have been doing this since you were born - even then it seemed second nature to me. As the years have passed, I've built up a tolerance, if you will, to the amount of energy being expelled. When I started, however, I would look for the signs and then begin actively occluding. It minimized any wasted efforts."_

_"And what exactly are the signs?" she huffed impatiently._

_"_That_ you must figure out for yourself." Raising an eyebrow, he moved to the preparation table where he began untying bundles of herbs. _

_With a grunt, Hermione settled back into her chair. "How many times?"_

_She could hear him pause in his work as he regarded her question. "How many times what?"_

_"How many times, Professor, did you enter my mind since we began this exercise?"_

_"Ah," he muttered, arranging the leaves in front of him by size. He turned his head just enough so she could see the smirk on his lips. "Five."_

From then on it had become some sort of twisted game between them, as he had suddenly begun shouting out numbers throughout the afternoon, and she would groan or curse in return. She realized now that she had no way of knowing whether he had entered her mind as many times as he claimed, but at the time, each new number he boasted had only served to spur her on. Her frustration had run high, but by the time he reached "Twenty-three!", she had started to notice the pattern. There was a small sensation that seemed to pull at the edge of her conscience, and it had seemed to predate many of his shouted numbers. When she had felt it again, followed closely by his claim of "Twenty-four!", she knew she had him.

_There it was again - the nudging. _

_"Twenty-five," Hermione stated calmly. A smirk was desperately fighting to be expressed as she watched Snape halt his cauldron work and slowly raise his head._

_"Very well, Miss Granger," he sighed strangely. He glanced back at her through the hair that had fallen into his face, the corner of his lips slightly raised into the hint of a smile. "You seem to have finally caught on. Next time, do something about it."_

Hermione sighed as she rolled onto her stomach. It was the only way she had any chance of sleeping as it reduced the pressure on her lower back. Her body seemed to be completely devoid of energy, yet her mind would not stop running through everything. She wished desperately for the darkness of the night to claim her and to give her a reprieve from her worries. Her anxiety had been on high alert since she had left his office that night.

The last few hours had passed torturously slow. Snape had left her to sit in apprehension, waiting for him to attempt another mental assault. Time had seemed to creep by as she had nothing to focus on save for the tinklings and clatterings of his potions work. When supper had arrived, she had been ready for him to try again. Snape, however, did nothing but command her to eat everything on her plate. It had been the first honest meal she had ingested in weeks, and the food sat like a rock in her stomach as she spent another hour in nervous silence. When he had finally struck, though, she had been more than ready, throwing up her mental shields before he had the chance to enter.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Hermione ignored a random flare-up of pain. She tried instead to focus on the satisfaction she achieved by besting the Order spy at his own game. The satisfaction that had been short-lived, however, as it had been chased away by the last two reminders he had given her.

Tomorrow was September first , and for the first time in her life, Hermione Jean Granger was dreading the school year. She was not really worried about classes, strangely enough - she was looking forward to them as a distraction from everything else. What _was_ upsetting her, though, was the impending loss of privacy. Gryffindor tower had been her safe haven the past two weeks, mainly because she could escape to solitude. Within twenty-four hours, however, the Common Room would be crawling with rowdy students, the stairwell would be occupied by hormonal teenagers in various displays of affection, and even her room would be invaded by two other girls and their personal issues. The seventh-year Gryffindor prefect, Mathina Lewis, tended to keep to herself when in their room, but the incoming fifth-year prefect had yet to be revealed to Hermione. She silently prayed it was someone quiet who was not inclined to pry.

_Who am I kidding?_ She groaned, flipping onto her side. _This is Gryffindor, not Ravenclaw._

As her thoughts then turned to her friends, Hermione buried her face in the crook of her arm. Ron and Harry would be there tomorrow. Guilt began to churn in her gut as she realized she was almost afraid to see them. Normally she would be bubbling with anticipation, but this year was different. It was not that she was not excited to have them back, because she did miss them terribly - and Ginny, too. Her hesitation, though, stemmed from all of the lies she knew she would have to tell.

That was the other thing of which Snape had informed her earlier. Her morning was to begin with a meeting in Dumbledore's office. They were to discuss exactly what she could share with her friends, and, as the Potions Master had knowingly predicted, she would have her first chance to test her Occlumency against the Headmaster's probing curiosity.

Hermione let out a frustrated moan. She wrapped her arms around her pillow, staring into the dark until her eyelids finally became heavy and drooped closed.

**X x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Severus, my boy, stop pacing," Dumbledore said with a small grin. "Before you wear a hole in my carpet."

The younger man rolled his eyes, but complied with the request. He stepped over to an armchair and collapsed into it.

"Surely you cannot be this upset that she's a few minutes late." The Headmaster's eyes held a knowing gaze. "Seeing as you've been pandering to her schedule thus far."

His subordinate glanced at the door with a sigh. "She _is_ taking longer than expected, seeing as she's been awake for some time now."

Dumbledore ignored the comment, knowing it was not the cause for his frustration. "You doubt her ability to hide the truth from her friends, then?"

Snape shook his head and nervously began drumming his fingers on the armrest of the chair.

The elder wizard watched him carefully for a long moment before the light of realization struck. "You're worried about the re-committal."

Severus sighed with a slight nod and lifted his gaze. "I fear it may have to occur sooner than originally thought."

At the Headmaster's lifted brows, he continued. "She could hardly sit still yesterday without grimacing in pain. And you should have seen how long it took her to finish one bloody plate of food. I had to re-warm the damn thing three times before she was done!"

"Careful, Severus, you're starting to sound like you care."

Snape fixed him with a cold glare. "Albus, I had to use a spell from the Dark Ages just to heal a minor fracture in her hand."

The old wizard took in a long breath and stroked his beard. "Will she come to you when its time?"

"She has been instructed to do so," the Potions Master answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Whether she does so before it's too late remains to be seen. I've found her to be quite stubborn."

"As are you, my dear boy," Dumbledore chuckled. "As are you."

With a disdainful snort, Severus drifted his gaze to the corner of the room. A soft knocking, however, soon had both men's attention turning towards the door.

"Please do come in, Miss Granger!"

At the Headmaster's acknowledgement, the door creaked open to reveal Hermione's pale features.

"I apologize for being tardy, Professor." She stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind her.

The two wizards rose from their chairs, and Dumbledore waved her forward. "Nonsense, my dear girl. We have plenty of time. It allowed Professor Snape and I time to talk of other things."

"Oh," she nodded and began walking towards the proffered chair.

Taking note of her cautious, stiff movements, Severus sent a pointed glance at the grey wizard. Dumbledore gave a soft sigh and nodded in acknowledgement. "How are you feeling today, Miss Granger?"

Hermione met his kind blue eyes and shrugged as the two men took their seats. "Alright, I guess."

"You must be looking forward to having a few more friendly faces around the castle, yes?" Dumbledore asked with a smile.

"Erm, yes," she responded, shifting nervously under the weight of Snape's stare. "I suppose so."

As she chanced an apprehensive glance in Snape's direction, she began to notice a tickling sensation at the back of her mind. It was different from what she had felt the day before - more forceful, even, than Snape had been with her. A deep scowl crossed her face as she threw up all of her mental shields and turned to face the Headmaster. "_Perhaps_ we can get to the reason I am here, sir. I would like to know exactly _what_ I am allowed to tell people about my...summer."

"Oh, well...Of course." Dumbledore blinked in surprise and cleared his throat. He sent a quick, calculated glare towards Severus, who feigned innocence while struggling to hold back a grin. "I have already informed the staff that you had been granted early access to the school after an attack took place at your home."

Hermione narrowed her brows, and leaned forward. "And the Order? What all have you told them?"

"I apprised them of the situation shortly after I did the staff. That being said, however, they know little more than do the rest of your professors."

"So, you didn't tell them...they don't know about...about _this_?" she asked, gesturing between herself and Professor Snape.

Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a deeper voice. "As I am still capable of walking on my own, Miss Granger, it is quite obvious they do not."

"I suppose that's true," she muttered quietly, immediately picturing what Mrs. Weasley's possible reactions would be. None would end particularly well for the dour Potions Master. She quickly shifted her gaze back to the older man. "Professor Lupin seemed not to be aware my parents were murdered. Am I not to tell anyone that?"

The Head Wizard seemed somewhat hesitant as he very briefly flicked his eyes towards Snape. "As of now, I feel it safer no one knows that. Lord Voldemort is under the impression that I believe Professor Snape was able to remove them from the home before harm came to pass. However false this may be, it is better that this be the official story."

"Exactly how would that be..._better_?" Unable to sit any longer, Hermione moved to stand behind her chair and then leaned against it. While she stared at the elder wizard, it was Severus who answered.

"If it were to be known that you - the most likely to be targeted - were the only one spared in the attack, it may seem rather..._conspicuous_. Certain paranoid individuals would undoubtedly suspect that your presence here could be part of a plot by the Dark Lord."

"Which it is," Hermione sighed mournfully.

Ignoring her, the man continued. "If it were believed, however, that your parents are still alive and that the planned attack was foiled, you would find yourself under less scrutiny."

_And it makes you look better in the eyes of the Order_, she thought angrily_, if they believe you saved them._

"I will not deny that," he responded coldly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes into a glare and pushed away from the chair. She crossed her arms as she began to pace. "And Harry? What does he know?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your friends have been kept informed by Molly and Arthur Weasley. They are aware of an attack at your home, and that you have been kept under our protection since. That is all they know, and that is all they will know until I have decided otherwise. Do I have your agreement on that?"

"Fine," she hissed, coming to a sudden stop. "Not that it matters anyway since _he's_ already commanded my silence on the issue!"

Severus remained impassive as she pointed towards him with tears slipping down her cheeks.

"It's as much for your safety, my child, as it is for his." The Headmaster's tone was calm as he rose from his chair. He walked around his desk, quickly making his way to her side and guiding her to a seat on the sofa. He took a seat beside her and gently took her hands in his. "You do understand this?"

She nodded twice and blew out an irritated breath. Dumbledore offered her a small smile and patted her hands before rising from the couch. He had begun to walk away when she wiped her eyes and found her voice again.

"So if I am to pretend my parents are alive_, sir,_ and I cannot tell them of my Occlumency lessons, then what _exactly_ am I to have been doing for two weeks?"

The old wizard spun to face her, a concerned look upon his face. "My dear girl -"

A throat clearing interrupted him, and caused the two of them to look in Snape's direction. "I seem to recall you having a penchant for filling your head with all the knowledge you could possibly get your hands on. And, if I'm not mistaken, there just happens to be a room with a multitude of books -"

"You expect me to tell them that I spent the last TWO WEEKS in the LIBRARY?" Hermione launched off the couch, wincing as a surge of pain blasted through her body. "That, instead of grieving for my parents and having my mind ripped open repeatedly, I've been READING?"

"Please calm down, Miss Granger," Dumbledore requested, grabbing hold of her arm as she tried to shoot past him. "Severus does not mean to upset you. Naturally, if you have another believable option, I would be much obliged to hear of it."

Hermione took in several angry breaths as she glanced between the two men. She ran a hand through her tangled hair as she tried to think, but no other explanations came to mind. She did not know which pissed her off more - that Snape would suggest she spent the entire time with her nose in a book, or that her friends would undoubtedly accept it without question. A few moments passed before she sighed in defeat and collapsed back onto the sofa with her arms folded against her chest.

Dumbledore nodded quietly and seated himself in a nearby armchair. "It may seem you are alone in this, Hermione, but I assure you this is not true. I wish it did not have to be so, but you must see that it is for the best. If Voldemort were to -"

"I get it, Professor," she said curtly. "I _really_ don't need any more reminders."

The Headmaster raised his eyebrow and briefly glanced back at the rigid professor staring out the window. He turned back to Hermione and gave a small sigh. "Well then, my dear, there's only a few things for us to discuss before you get back to your reading."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

The sky was beginning to darken as Hermione made her way out of the library that evening. Her stomach was twisting violently as she pushed through the doors and stepped into the hallway. She found she was also sweating under the weight of her school robes.

_It's just nerves_, she assured herself. The announcement that had echoed through the corridors a short while before had stated the Hogwarts Express had safely reached the Hogsmeade station. Hermione had nearly jumped out of her skin as Professor McGonagall's voice filled the library, and it had taken her several minutes to get her heart back to a normal pace.

She bit her lip as she cautiously made her way down one of the staircases. Every step seemed to jar her body enough to send a shot of pain racing through her nervous system. To make matters worse, she felt as though she were coming down with a migraine.

_It doesn't matter_, she boldly decided as she paused upon the landing to glance out the window. _Just fight through the pain, and you'll be fine._ _It'll be better._

As she caught sight of the tiny orbs of the carriage lanterns in the distance, she felt an enormous dose of excitement pulse through her body. Any hesitation she had felt about seeing her friends had long since melted away - she could not wait to have them back in her life. After all, since her parents were gone, they were the only family she had. An honest smile appeared on her face as realized they would be here momentarily. They would all go into the Great Hall together, watch the Sorting, and enjoy the Welcoming Feast - just like old times. With her friends there, perhaps she could forget about everything else for the evening.

When the line of carriages had nearly arrived at the castle, Hermione ignored the pain as she flew down the stairs as quickly as possible. By the time she touched foot in the Entrance Hall, she was so winded that she had to lean against the wall until she had caught her breath. Once she was once again able to breathe with her mouth closed, she waited anxiously until a throng of students entered the castle. Standing on one of the steps, she craned her neck to see above all of the heads until she spotted the three she most desperately wished to see.

_Of course they were at the back of the line._ She gave a small smirk at the thought_. Probably were in the very last carriage, too._

When she had a clear enough path to them, she gave a small squeal and immediately vacated her position on the stairs. Before they could even register what was happening, she had thrown her arms around Ron's and Harry's necks and pulled them into the biggest hug she had ever given anyone.

"Oof, 'Mione." Ron turned his head and spit out a mouthful of her hair. "Nice to see you, too."

Hermione was fighting tears and had so far refused to let them go. "I've missed you all so much!"

"We've missed you too."

The reassuring pat Harry gave to her back nearly caused her to buckle in blinding pain, but she gritted her teeth and sucked in a steadying breath.

"Um, no offense, but you can let us go now."

She gave a short laugh at Ron's comment and quickly released the two boys. She wiped away the tears that had formed and gave a quick apology before turning to Ginny.

"We're so glad you're okay!" the redheaded girl exclaimed as Hermione pulled her into another hug. "We all were so worried about you and your family."

"Er, thanks," Hermione responded as she stepped back. "But let's not talk about that right now. What about you guys? What have you all been up to? How are you?"

"Much better now that we're back here," Harry answered.

"Yeah, definitely," Ron agreed with enthusiastic nodding. "Ginny's got news for you, though."

Hermione smiled and raised her eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ginny nodded as she adjusted her robes so the red and gold badge could be seen. "Professor McGonagall made me a prefect!"

"That's fantastic! I'm so proud of you!" Hermione said with a grin. "We'll actually be roommates this year."

The younger girl smiled widely and nodded excitedly.

"'Spose we better head on in to the feast, yeah?" Ron stated. "Since the first years'll be here soon and seeing as we're all prefects now - 'cept for Harry of course. Gotta set a good example, you know."

"Uh-huh," Harry said quietly as Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically. "You are aware there won't be any food until _after_ the Sorting, right?"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Mione, you alright?" Ron asked after the feast had begun. His attempts to speak resulted in his spraying small specks of potato back onto the table.

Harry removed his gaze from Ginny who was happily chatting away with Dean Thomas, glancing first at her brother and then across the table to Hermione. "He's right - you don't look very good."

"I just..er...I think I'm coming down with something, that's all," she nervously stammered.

"Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey," Harry suggested as Ron nodded enthusiastically beside him.

"I'm fine," she hissed at them, glancing quickly down the Gryffindor table to make sure no one else had noticed. The happy faces and loud chatterings confirmed that no one had.

"You're not fine," her dark-haired friend pushed.

"Not at all," Ron agreed in concern. "I mean, _look_ at you! You look like you just failed an exam. You're all pale and sweaty and - Hey!"

Harry glared at the redhead and removed his elbow from the boy's side. "She gets the picture, Ron."

"Oh, right," he whispered before glancing apologetically at her. "Sorry."

Hermione grimaced, wiping a sleeve across her forehead. She could only imagine what she looked like at present. By the time the Sorting Hat had finished its task, her symptoms seemed to have strengthened exponentially. Her pulse was now racing like a herd of wild horses, and she felt as though her entire body were on fire.

"Alright, _fine_!" she sighed. "I'll go after supper. Happy?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, as he muttered, "Ecstatic."

Ignoring his sarcasm, she set her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. A raging pressure was building behind her skull and she was beginning to wonder how long it would be before her head exploded.

"Are you seriously not going to eat anything?" Ron asked loudly while munching on something.

Glancing at him from between her hands, she grimaced as she watched the masticated 'whatever' rolling around in his open mouth. She could not help but feel nauseous. "I - I'm not hungry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "She doesn't feel well, mate. She probably doesn't want to eat anything, you know."

"Makes sense. Sorry again," Ron nodded before stuffing another forkful of food in his mouth.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and then discreetly glanced towards the Head Table. She had felt as though she were under surveillance since she first sat down, and now she knew why. Snape's dark eyes were trained on her. Shivering slightly - whether from her fever or from his stare, she could not be sure - she turned her attention back to her friends.

"Maybe you have the stomach flu?" Harry offered, concern etched upon his face.

"There's no such thing as a _stomach_ flu," she answered with an irritated sigh. "Influenza causes a _respiratory_ illness. Though, you could be on the right idea - I could have a stomach virus."

Harry and Ron shared an exasperated look.

"Well, at least we know she can't be that sick," Harry snickered.

Ron snorted loudly, and then shook his head. "Are you kidding? She'll be on her _death_bed correcting everyone's grammar as they say their last farewells."

As the two of them hooted with laughter, Hermione sighed and reached for her water goblet. Within seconds she had emptied the entire glass, but she was dismayed when the cool liquid did nothing to aid her suddenly parched throat. She waited for the glass to refill itself, and then quickly downed its contents. When no further relief was achieved, she found herself again on the verge of tears.

"What in Merlin's name are you two blubbering on about?" Ginny shouted at the boys from several seats away. When they both answered, 'Nothing,' she shook her head and looked towards Hermione. "Hey, Hermione! Are you okay? You don't look so good. I've got some Pepper-up Potion upstairs that Mum sent if you -"

Hermione let out an irritated sigh and dropped her arms to her side. "I'm _fine_!"

Ginny frowned, but turned back to the conversation around her. Hermione knew full well, however, that her friend would undoubtedly be on her the moment they stepped foot into their room. Suddenly she was not so thrilled any more about Ginny being chosen as the fifth-year prefect. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the table.

**_"You're _not_ fine, Miss Granger, nor do you have a stomach virus."_**

Her body jerked in surprise at the sudden appearance of his voice, and she mentally shouted at him to _'Go away!_'.

**_"You know _exactly_ what is wrong, and a Pepper-up Potion will sooner turn you into a newt than relieve you of your symptoms."_**

"Get out of my head!" She hissed angrily into her sleeve.

**_"Excuse yourself from the table. Now."_**

"What was that?" Ron asked, his fork halted in mid-air.

_Crap._ Hermione quickly lifted her head as she fought back tears. She searched for a logical response that would allow her to leave without one or both of them following. Before she knew it, she heard her voice responding. "I-er-I said, 'I need to get out and use the head.'"

"Oh," he nodded, blushing slightly and dropping his eyes to the table.

Sighing in despair, she rose from the bench. "I'll see you, tomorrow. Enjoy your dessert."

"What do you mean _tomorrow_?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing.

"I have a headache, Harry, and I feel like utter rubbish," she said forcefully. "I'm going to bed early. Someone else can handle my rounds tonight. If Professor McGonagall has a problem with that, I'll work it out with her later."

"I thought you were going to the Hospital Wing."

"You're not my mother, Potter," she hissed as she began to leave.

"That was weird," Harry muttered, as he and Ron watched her storm out of the Great Hall.

"Tell me about it, mate," Ron agreed, reaching for his pumpkin juice. "Since when does she call you Potter?"

The dark-haired wizard shook his head slowly as he continued to stare at the empty doorway.

"And when has she _ever_ referred to the bathroom as _'the head'_?" Ron took a quick swig of his juice and then gestured towards the door with his glass. "Somethin's up with her, I'm tellin' ya."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As soon as she was out of sight of the Great Hall, Hermione burst into tears. Her heart was pounding erratically, and panic was creeping in upon her chest.

It was so hot. Pulling at the fastenings of her school robes, she ran towards the stairs. She wished desperately to escape the heat that was rising exponentially, so she chose to make her way towards the dungeons, where she knew it to be cooler. She had made her way down two flights of stairs before she found her ability to balance was greatly compromised. Tightly latching onto the stone banister, she slowly staggered down another set of steps.

Every nerve fiber in her body was burning, and breathing was becoming exceptionally difficult for her. Lack of oxygen was causing the edges of her vision to become fuzzy, and still the heat rose. As she reached the nearest landing, she felt as though she could go no further. Stumbling over her own foot, she braced her arms to catch herself against the wall. She gave an involuntary sigh of relief at the bone-chilling temperature of the stone, and quickly pressed her whole body to it. Within a few seconds, her knees began to buckle beneath her weight and she started to sag against the wall.

Before she hit the floor, however, she was seized around the waist by a strong arm.

"No," she whispered harshly as he hauled her up to her feet.

"I told you to come to me when it was needed!" A rumbling voice shouted behind her. Hermione turned her head and raised her eyes to see the angry scowl of Professor Snape.

"No!" she shouted. "It's not necessary! Please - Just let me go!"

"I cannot do that, Miss Granger," Severus growled as he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down another flight of steps. "You've left me no choice."

"Please no!" she cried, attempting to yank her hand from his. "Please!"

Snape hissed and pulled her to his chest. "Believe me, girl - I don't want to do this any more than you do. But seeing as neither of us stand a chance at survival if we forgo this -"

"I'd rather die!" she hissed. "Just let me die."

"If you cannot keep your voice down, I will not hesitate to silence you. I will not sacrifice _my_ life so you can end yours in a pathetic display of histrionics."

"Please stop." Her voice was little louder than a whisper as she fell to her knees.

Severus glared as he tried to tug her along. "We will not do this where someone can come upon us. Now, get up!"

"I c-can't!"

"You can, and you will!"

"N-no," she whispered, "I mean I can't. Can't g-get up."

Glancing down in surprise, Snape realized her legs were no longer capable of supporting her body. He groaned loudly, but immediately heaved her squirming form over his shoulder and made his way to the nearest room. He knew time was now in short supply.

The first door he threw open led to an old, empty classroom. He quickly crossed to the front of the room and deposited her on top of the large desk. Wordlessly, he shut and locked the door and threw up silencing and privacy spells.

With his attention momentarily focused on the door, Hermione made an attempt to run.

"Don't you dare," he hissed, catching her as she leaped from the desk. "There's no getting out of this, Granger. It _has_ to be done."

She whimpered as he lifted her back onto the desk. He used his body to keep her legs pinned against the drawer as he removed a flask from an inner pocket of his robes. He popped open the vial and handed it to her. "You'll want to drink this."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the grey liquid being handed to her. Her mind quickly shot to the passage she had read in his office.

'_Olvideregrete is a dull grey, medium density, low viscosity fluid upon completion of the brewing...'_

"No!" She shouted, slapping the bottle from his hands. The shatter of glass could be heard as it slammed into the wall.

Severus sighed as he stared at the mess that was dripping onto the floor. It was taking every fiber in his being not to fly into a rage. Closing his eyes, he pulled out another vial from his pocket. "I suggest you not destroy this one."

She was about to raise her hand again in protest, but stopped when she actually looked at the item in his grasp. Recognizing the salmon-hued potion as the contraceptive she had helped to brew, Hermione sighed dejectedly and snatched it from his hand. Choking back a sob, she opened the flask and quickly downed the liquid. She coughed a little in surprise - the potion was so sweet that it made her teeth hurt.

"Lie back," he instructed calmly, banishing the empty flask from her hand.

She had to swallow a lump that formed in her throat, but she then did as she was told. Slamming her eyes shut, she tried to picture herself anywhere else but there.

Snape took a deep breath and tried to quiet the churning in his gut as he reached a hand towards the girl. Gently, he lifted her school robes and skirt and pushed them up her thighs. He steeled himself to continue, attempting to shut out the disgust that had invaded every cell in his body. She was so sickly pale as she quivered before him. He could now tell how much weight she had lost in a small manner of time. Her hips were bony, and her knees knobbly - just like a child's would be.

Pushing that horrible thought from his mind, Severus swallowed nervously and began to unfasten his teaching robes. Letting those drop to the floor, he moved onto his trousers. Naked from the waist down, he stepped forward and began to slip her knickers down her thighs.

At his touch, an overwhelming panic erupted through Hermione. She was back in the clearing before Voldemort, and she had to fight to get away.

"No!" she shouted, as every limb flailed desperately.

"Hermione," Snape attempted in a cool voice. "You need to stop. I need to -"

His words ended abruptly as he had to quickly pull his head back to avoid being struck by her arm. A split second later, however, her foot connected with his midsection. He heard a crunching sound, and pain flared up his left side.

"Damn it!" He sucked in a agonizing breath, and doubled over. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he uprighted himself and grabbed hold of the thrashing girl. He shook her slightly as he shouted. "Open your eyes! Look at me!"

Her eyelids snapped open and he could see the terror residing in her pupils.

"We need to do this now, preferably before you go into seizures or lose consciousness. Do you understand?" His piercing eyes scanned her face until she gave a tiny whimper of acknowledgement. "It will be painful, but I will finish as quickly as I can."

She gave a small, tearful nod.

Quickly, Severus pushed her shoulders back against the desk and yanked her knickers down the rest of the way. Before she could allow fear to overtake her again, he slid her to the edge of the desk, wandlessly made himself erect, and gently began to push into her.

The scream that reverberated around the room could have broken glass, and he mentally cursed himself for not forcing her to do this earlier. If they had done this before the magic had a chance to set all of her nerve endings on fire, it undoubtedly would have made the encounter much less painful for both of them.

Every thrust elicited an agonized shriek from her, and it took every bit of effort on his part to keep going. She was writhing violently beneath him, forcing him to hold her in place to keep either of them from further injury. Breathing was already exceptionally difficult for him, as the cracked ribs burned with even the slightest movement.

But if she could fight through the pain, so could he. Closing his eyes and mentally shutting out all noise, he moved as quickly as he could. By some disturbing miracle, his body reacted favorably to the situation, and soon he felt a surge of pleasure as his semen released into her body.

He remained flaccid inside her for a few minutes while he fought to catch his breath. When he realized she had calmed in her movements, he threw his eyes open to find her staring at him in apprehension. With a small grunt, he slipped out from her and backed away towards the wall, grabbing the back of a chair for support.

Silence invaded the room, punctuated only by the sounds of their ragged breathing. Hermione remained absolutely still on the desk, and though Severus could feel her gaze was trained on his figure, he refused to bring his own eyes up to meet it.

A soft sniffling caught his attention, and when he finally gathered the courage to raise his head, a loud sobbing erupted from her body.

"Miss Granger," he whispered, wincing in pain. He reached a tentative hand towards her. "I am sor-"

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, rolling away from him and launching from the desk. Hermione sprinted towards the door - her cries becoming more desperate when she found she could not open it. She yanked on the handle several times before turning back to face him. "Let me out! Now!"

Snape swallowed painfully and nodded. With a flick of his wrist, his earlier spells were lifted and the lock clicked open. Before he could even take another breath, she had wrenched open the door and disappeared into the hall.

As the door slammed shut behind her, Severus fell to his knees and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the stone floor.


	22. Recovery

**A/N: An update! Finally! The last chapter took a lot out of me, but I finally managed to find the time to write. Hopefully I'll find some more after next week's 4-day marathon of exams.  
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**Thank you all for your awesome comments. They were much appreciated, and made for a very happy birthday!  
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** I love: woodshark, tennis14321432, Lil Tine, hnwhitlock2000, Mel, Gabrielle Rickman Snape, Slytherin-Me, HPFanGirl01, Raven Potter Weasely, KittyPimms, Lover of Fantasy, sweet-tang-honney, Angelwells, ineverdothis, 83annak, Startled Boris, DedicatedReader, Sev01, angellicious02, Dial595escape, MadamigellaSnape, Lyra Lupin, Vif119, ultimanoapte, Dark Snark, Tilly, melu785, Lucente, flowerypetal, MegaNerdAlert, callalily32, and Chia!  
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* * *

><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 22**

_Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!_

The phrase kept running through her mind as Hermione ran down an empty corridor. There was nothing else she could do. She could not think. She could not speak. She was not even sure she could breathe. There was nothing to do but run - to get away from that room, to get away from Snape, to get away from her life.

And eventually she could not do that any longer. Her legs threatening to collapse beneath her in exhaustion, she doubled over and slid a hand through her sweat-dampened hair. As her lungs were screaming for oxygen, she spent several minutes gasping for air. Once her breathing had calmed somewhat, she straightened upright and extended a shaking hand to steady herself against the castle wall.

It all came back to her in a rush, as though it had been chasing her through the halls and finally caught up with her. The urge to vomit had her suddenly bending over again, but as she had yet to eat anything that day, she did little more than dry heave. Once the feeling had passed, Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist and leaned her back against the wall.

_What am I going to do? Where am I going to go?_ She bit her lip as she tried to figure out the answer to those two questions. There was no way she was going to be able to face Gryffindor tower right now. Dinner was more than halfway through by now, and soon there was sure to be students in the hallways making their way to their common rooms. Hermione knew she could not just walk through the Gryffindor Common Room and go up to her bed as though nothing were amiss. Ginny would be on her about her rumpled appearance and tear-stained cheeks faster than you could say 'Quidditch.'

_Where to, then? I can't stay here. The library?_ Hermione scowled darkly at the thought. She had spent the afternoon there only so she could keep a straight face when telling her friends that she had been reading in her spare time. She sure as hell was not going to go there now. Besides, once they found she was absent from her room, the library would be the first place where they would look for her.

_Definitely not the library...and not the Hospital Wing, either._ There was really nothing she could ask the mediwitch for - except maybe a Calming Draught, but then that would require some sort of explanation. The rest of her symptoms and all of her pain had vanished as soon as Snape had finished. Hermione grimaced as she remembered the strange look on his face as he had dismounted - pain and disgust.

Sighing, she attempted to shake the image from her mind and tried even harder to forget that it was his semen which now coated her thighs. With a deep breath, she pushed that thought to the back of her mind and glanced about the hallway. She had not had any planned escape route when she had left the room - she had just sprinted away, blinded by tears. As such, she really had no idea where she was. Hesitantly setting off in one direction, she started searching for familiar landmarks.

Wiping away tears, she halted at the sound of a deep-throated purring. Spinning around, she scanned the area for any sight of a cat. She frowned upon seeing none and was about to continue on her way when movement on the wall caught her attention. Turning her head swiftly, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw the wide eyes of a lion cub staring intently back at her.

"Merlin!" she gasped.

The cub tilted his head, wrinkling his brow in concern. After a few seconds of mutual staring between Hermione and the cub, the latter quickly glanced down both ends of the hall and then blinked with a small smile.

Hermione's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise as the portrait extended towards the floor and then swung open. As she peered into Professor McGonagall's darkened chambers, anxiety swept over her. She did not have permission to be there - she had not even sought admission, for that matter. Mimicking the motions of the lion cub, she looked down either side of the corridor. There was no one else to be seen, though muted voices were drifting from somewhere else.

She needed somewhere to go - somewhere she felt safe. Gryffindor tower and the library were out. It seemed the castle was providing her another option.

Swallowing in apprehension, Hermione closed her eyes briefly and stepped into the room.

At her unexpected appearance, the black cat yowled and sprang down from the armchair. The animal streaked past Hermione's feet and darted out into the hallway just moments before the lion's portrait swung shut.

The room plunged into absolute darkness. Hermione collapsed onto the couch with a fearful sigh.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus forced himself to stand. He quickly redressed, withdrew his wand from his robes, and _Evanesco-_ed his mess. He took in several fiery breaths as he stared intensely at the desk before him. The room was absolutely silent, but he had not noticed due to the chaotic clamoring through his skull. Upon completion of the renewal, all of her inner turmoil came blasting back across his conscience. It seemed he had not realized fully that her thoughts were becoming harder and harder to hear - until now, as it were. It was as like listening to the radio on a low setting, and then having someone crank up the volume.

Grimacing, he raised a hand to his head and tried to adjust to the noise. It did not help any that his own tumultuous thoughts kept surfacing with a string of questions. How was he ever going to face her in class? Would he ever be able to get her screams out of his head? Would she ever forgive him? Would she ever trust him again? _How could she? Why should she?_

Snape's face contorted as he felt angry tears forming beneath his lower eyelids. Blinking them hurriedly away, he let out a rage-filled growl and tried to control the magic that was threatening to burst forth from his fingertips. He shook slightly, holding his breath as he channeled it all back into his wand. When the slender length of blackthorn began to burn against his palm, he let all the air rush out of his lungs and then angrily swished his wand.

As a ball of energy surged forth from his wand-tip, he felt a certain amount of pressure relaxing away from his body. And as the desk - now tainted by their dark union - violently exploded into a pile of splinters, he felt some of the rage within him disappearing as well. Spinning swiftly on his heel, he flung a similar fire-ball towards the high-backed wooden chair. After it too splintered apart, he spun again and again, launching spell after spell, until finally there was nothing left in the classroom to annihilate.

As a cloud of dust ominously rose about the room, Severus took in the destruction. His chest was heaving, every breath stinging with the reminder of what he had done. What he had always done, he realized - destroy things. He had destroyed his relationship with Lily - the only woman who had ever loved him. He had destroyed his soul the night he pledged his loyalty to the Dark Lord. He had destroyed Lily's life - and Potter's - when he tried to prove his worth by bringing Voldemort the prophecy. He had destroyed his freedom when he turned to Dumbledore for help.

And now he had destroyed the life of Hermione Granger - a child under his protection.

He kicked at one of the larger chunks of wood near him. A flash of color caught his eye, and his breath stopped when he recognized the pale blue of Hermione's underwear. Before he knew he had even done so, flames shot forth from his wand, reducing them to ashes.

Snape covered his face with his hands and dropped to his knees amidst the rubble. How long he remained there in that position, he did not know. Time seemed to freeze. It was not until he heard the creak of the door opening and closing that he finally raised his head.

Albus Dumbledore stood in the middle of the room, his immaculate gold and lilac robes a stark contrast to the darkness of the damaged space. His eyebrows were raised as he swept his gaze about the room before allowing it to settle upon the younger man's unmoving form.

"I see you've taken to redecorating again," he said in a calm voice. Met only with a dark glare, the Headmaster nodded sadly and slowly stepped forward. "Severus -"

"Don't," Snape whispered, nearly inaudibly.

"- I am sorry," Dumbledore finished, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Severus shrugged away from the touch and pulled himself from the floor. He shifted his robes back into place, masked his expression, and sniffed. "It had to be done."

The elder wizard closed his eyes and sighed. He gave a few nods and then gestured towards the door. "Come."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"I don't know what in Merlin's name has gotten into you, Malina!" McGonagall hissed as she followed the black cat down the hallway. The diminutive feline gave a small meow and rubbed against the hem of her robes as they reached the entrance to her quarters.

After speaking the password and stepping into the dark room, she glared down at the animal. "Honestly, have I ever sat _my_ rump in _your_ tin of tuna? Rotten feline. Just what was so bloody important that you felt the need to ruin a perfectly decent supper, hmmm?"

Malina arched her back and then quickly shuffled away, leaping onto the back of the couch.

Minerva angrily flicked her wand towards the lamp next to the couch, and raised her eyebrow at the cat, who was flicking her tail indifferently. The witch shook her head, storming forward, but stopped suddenly when she heard a quiet sniffling. Glancing around the large armchair, she gave a small gasp as she caught sight of the girl curled up in the corner of her sofa.

"Miss Granger?" she asked in surprise.

Hermione pushed up into a seated position and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Oh, erm, I'm sorry...I shouldn't be here, but I just did-didn't know where else to go."

McGonagall shook her head to recapture her senses and then took a seat beside her. "Never mind that. Now, tell me what happened."

A new round of tears sprung forth from the girl as she pulled her knees to her chest. After a few minutes of gentle coaxing from her Head of House, she began to talk through everything that had happened since the start of the Welcoming Feast.

Minerva remained absolutely silent as she listened to her account, though her lips pinched together in anger. When the girl had finished, she softened her expression somewhat and brushed a lock of hair out of Hermione's face.

"It h-hurt so much," Hermione whimpered. "I thought I was g-going to die...I wanted to. I begged him just to let me die."

"Look at me, Hermione," the older witch instructed as she touched her cheek. When the girl raised her eyes, McGonagall gave her a tight smile. "You are strong, you hear me? You made it through, and you will continue to do so. Don't let him win."

Hermione nodded slightly and allowed herself to be pulled into a comforting embrace. She was not quite sure whether 'him' was referring to Snape or Voldemort, but at the moment she could not care less.

"Does it still hurt?" Minerva asked as she gently placed the girl's head against her shoulder. When she felt the shaking of the young witch's head, she gave a quick sigh of relief. When the girl began sobbing again, she stiffened and glanced down at her. "Hermione?"

"He tried to give me a potion," she whispered. "I wouldn't take it, and he just looked so...angry."

The Gryffindor Head narrowed her eyes as she slightly pulled away from the girl. "What sort of potion?"

Hermione's sniffling increased, and she tried in vain to wipe away the tears that were still falling.

McGonagall placed a hand on her arm. "What sort of potion, Hermione?"

"A...a love potion," she answered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "_Olvideregrete_."

"He did WHAT?" Minerva's eyes widened in shock. She began muttering beneath her breath, more to herself than to her student. "There has to be some mistake. Severus might be a bastard of a man, but he would never resort to something like that. Impossible."

Hermione shrugged mournfully and wrapped her arms around her shins.

The deputy headmistress frowned and stood up from the settee. One flick of her wand had a roaring fire going in the hearth, and another had the urn of floo powder soaring towards her hand. Upon catching the metal container, however, Minerva shook her head and returned it to the mantelpiece. It was best to gather all of her thoughts before storming in to confront anyone. Sighing softly, she spun back to face the girl curled up on her sofa.

"Is there anything I can get you?" she asked cautiously. "Are you ...in need of anything?"

Hermione sighed and buried her face against her knee. Though her voice was muffled, the elder witch could still distinguish her words. "I...I don't know. I think I just want to climb in the shower and never get out."

"Hmmph," McGonagall frowned, but then shrugged her shoulders in understanding. "If you would, Miss Granger, follow me."

As the witch's emerald robes rustled past her, Hermione looked up from her misery and then reluctantly slipped off of the couch. She raised her eyebrows in confusion as she headed towards the door through which her Head of House had disappeared. As she neared, she could hear the sound of running water.

Pushing the door open a little wider to reveal a relatively large bathroom, she could not help but utter a small squeak of surprise. McGonagall stood beside a large tub of sparkling white marble that was currently being filled with bubbling water through a faucet of gleaming gold. The rest of the room - the flooring, the sink basin, the expansive countertop, and the toilet - shared the same marble as the tub, while accentuated by the presence of a few squashy-looking and decidedly-Gryffindor red bath rugs.

"It's not quite a shower, but it'll have to do," Minerva interrupted her observations. She pulled out two folded, fluffy red towels and set them atop the marble vanity. "I guarantee this will be more relaxing at any rate."

The tub, seeming to have recognized on its own that it had reached the optimal water level, switched off with a quiet fizzing of bubbles.

"Well," McGonagall gave a tight grin. "I'll step out, then."

Hermione gave a small nod, swallowing back a new set of tears as the woman swept past her and closed the door softly. She let out a large gust of air as she set her wand next to the sink and began unfastening her school robes. As the heavy fabric dropped to the floor, she shakily moved her hands to unbutton her blouse. When that, too, had been tossed to the floor, she winced at her reflection in the mirror. She could never have been considered pudgy by anyone, but never before had she ever been able to see the outline of her ribcage, and her elbows seemed even more bony than usual. Her eyes narrowed heatedly as she noted the angry red marks that had formed on her upper arms. She could clearly distinguish separate finger impressions - hand-prints. Snape's hand-prints.

Hesitantly, she raised her right hand and placed it over the marks on her left arm. She lined up her fingers with the imprints left by his, and shivered as she realized how much larger his hands must be. His long fingers had encircled her arms entirely as he forced her back onto the desk. Dropping her hand back to her side, she suddenly remembered the intense pain and fear that had gripped her being. She remembered the panic and the urge to fight that they had instilled within her. She had struggled and kicked at him, and yet he had held her down through it all.

_And tomorrow I'll have the bruises to prove it. _Taking in a painful breath, she shook her head and continued stripping out of her clothes. As she let her skirt drop around her ankles, she covered her mouth with her hand and felt as though her eyes might bug out of her head.

"Oh my God," she whispered. _I just ran through the castle without any knickers on! Holy Merlin. Well, it's not as though you asked Snape to have them back, did you? Oh Lord - Snape has my knickers. Well he can bloody well keep them...or burn them...or eat them for all I care...because I certainly do NOT want them back!_

The soft knocking of the door startled her from the train of thought.

"Just a minute," she replied, hurriedly moving to climb into the tub. A soft moan of relief escaped her lips as she slid her entire body into the deliciously warm water. After a few seconds, she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the back of the tub.

At her acknowledgement, the door opened just enough for Minerva's head to appear.

"Were you intending to return to Gryffindor Tower this evening?"

Upon hearing the hard sigh escaping the girl's lips, McGonagall gave a knowing nod and stepped into the room.

"I figured as much," she said quietly, setting a stack of folded clothing on the vanity next to the towels. "I've had the house-elves deliver a pair of pajamas and a change of clothes for the morning."

Hermione glanced up at her with wide-eyes. "You mean I can -"

"You may," the elder woman answered with a smirk. "I shall notify Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley that you have been sequestered in the Hospital Wing until the morrow, and I shall instruct Miss Weasley to cover your rounds this evening. You may return the favor for her tomorrow night."

The girl nodded emphatically, brushing away stray tears with a wet hand. "Thank you."

Minerva gave a curt nod and moved back towards the door. "If you are in need of assistance, Malina will know how to find me."

Hermione followed her gesture and noticed that the small black cat had managed to sneak into the room unseen, and was now curled up quite happily in the sink basin. Malina raised her head and blinked twice before giving a swift flick of her tail and dropping her head back to her paw.

The deputy headmistress had nearly succeeded in closing the door when Hermione suddenly spun in the water and called out, "Professor?"

"Hmmm?" McGonagall replied, appearing again in the doorway.

The girl paled a little and began to chew on her lip. Her stomach was twisting nervously as she struggled to voice her concern. "I...er, I have Potions tomorrow morning..."

Minerva nodded as her voice trailed off. "I will have you excused from your classes tomorrow. Seeing as you're currently suffering a bout of some strange illness, it would take at least that long for Madam Pomfrey to set you to rights, wouldn't it?"

Hermione could not help but smile in appreciation.

"However," the Gryffindor Head suddenly donned a stern look. "I do expect you to make up any missed work in a most timely fashion. Potions included."

"Yes, ma'am," she responded with a dip of her head. "Thank you again."

The older witch raised her eyebrow as she moved to make her exit. "Just don't make a habit of this."

Hermione nodded as she watched the door shut behind the woman. She gave a quick glance towards the apparently sleeping cat, and then sighed. She shivered slightly before curling up and ducking beneath the warm cover of bubbles.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus looked towards the ceiling in mild annoyance as the fireplace in the Headmaster's office flared green and suddenly produced an irate Minerva McGonagall.

Her eyes narrowed considerably when she caught sight of him. Her wand was out in a split second and she began forcefully marching towards him. "You! What the bloody hell is WRONG with you? Is there NOT a scrap of DECENCY left in you at ALL? You can't POSSIBLY claim that _that_ was in her best interest!"

Snape had remained absolutely silent through her tirade, though he kept a cautious eye trained on her wand as he cautiously stepped away from her.

"Minerva!" Dumbledore interrupted in a cautioning tone as the pair of them continued moving across the width of the office. "You cannot kill him."

"No," she hissed with an angry shake of her head. "But I _can_ maim him!"

Severus let out a sharp gasp of pain as he suddenly backed into the corner of a bookcase and struggled to not fall to his knees in agony.

Minerva's mouth stood open as she stared at him in surprise. A majority of the anger had left her tone as she dropped her wand to her side. "Are you alright?"

Snape coughed painfully, and a look of disbelief crossed his face. "Two seconds ago you were ready to cut me to pieces."

"Yes, well," she stammered in surprise. "I didn't actually intend to physically harm you."

"I always knew your threats were empty," he hissed.

Raising an eyebrow, McGonagall sighed. "I'm willing to give you the chance to explain yourself before I actually start launching hexes. And it takes the fun out of it when you're standing there looking like you just got rammed by a charging centaur. Now, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat when the younger wizard offered no response. "Severus is refusing medical treatment. It seems he may have suffered a few fractured ribs this evening."

The woman's eyes widened as she glanced towards Snape. "Miss Granger?"

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously as he grabbed the top of an armchair for support.

"Oh, give it a rest, Severus," she admonished. "And, for Merlin's sake, sit down before you fall down."

The younger man held his glare for a few minutes before finally relenting, and taking a seat with a sigh.

Minerva rolled her eyes, and her stern expression returned. "Spare me the dramatics, if you would. I've already heard all of the gory details of this evening, so count yourself lucky to still be breathing."

Snape glanced briefly at Dumbledore, who had let out a small sigh from behind his desk, before returning his gaze to her. "And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Because I want answers," she huffed, gathering her skirts and perching on the edge of another chair. "For instance - Miss Granger seems to be under the impression that you tried to drug her this evening. Why would that be?"

"Drug her?" he asked, his eyes widening in surprised confusion. "With what exactly?"

The deputy headmistress raised one eyebrow as she stated matter-of-factly, "_Olvideregrete."_

"WHAT?" Severus bellowed angrily, launching forward out of his chair. "What could possibly have possessed her to think that!"

Minerva crossed her arms, her eyes following his form as he began to pace. "That's what I'm asking you. She says you tried to give her a potion, she refused, and you got angry!"

Snape halted immediately, and his mouth popped open. "Oh...that."

"Yes, _that_," she responded crossly. "Now explain."

Grimacing, he ran a hand through his hair. "It was an...anesthetic of sorts. Something I developed in an attempt to dull the pain. _Not_ a love potion. You, of all people, know where I stand on those cursed things."

"I do," she nodded firmly. "Which is why you are still capable of speaking."

"Merlin's sake," he hissed. "Why would she even think of _Olvide_ -"

"Severus?" McGonagall asked as he trailed off and stared blankly at the floor.

The Potions Master did not seem to recognize that she had spoken to him. His mind was too busy playing back to the day before. He could see Hermione standing over the potion as it finished brewing, but before that he remembered her staring nervously at his desk. His eyes widened as he realized which book he had left open, and that his notes had been strewn all over his desk. In sudden disgust, he wiped his hand down his face. He completely understood how she could have misunderstood the situation. It could have made perfect sense that he would ply her with some sort of potion to remove her inhibitions. It may not be moral or even ethical, in his opinion, but it definitely would have made it less unpleasant for both of them to -

"THAT'S why you wanted me to add love potions to my coursework!" Snape's eyes had taken on a dangerous shimmer as he spun to face the silent Headmaster.

"You're reaching, Severus," Minerva stated, her eyes flicking between the two men. "He_ is_ reaching, isn't he, Albus?"

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and considered his response.

"ALBUS!" The Deputy Headmistress was on her feet in a split second, anger and disbelief flickering across her features.

The older wizard sighed. "I merely thought it might make things easier. At the very least it could provide you with some insight as to how to go about it. Which, if I'm not mistaken, it did. Did it not?"

"What does he mean by that, Severus?"

Snape groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I utilized a few of the ingredients - the _legal_ ones, mind you - to capture the pain-blocking properties of _Olvidegregrete_. Nothing else, I assure you."

He let his hands drop onto the desk and leaned into glare at his employer. "You could have_ told_ me that was your purpose, instead of trying to_ manipulate_ me into it! Do you know how much _time_ I wasted trying to come up with a goddamn lesson plan for them?"

Dumbledore let out an amused snort. "I assure you, my dear boy, if I had thought you would take my suggestion to heart, I would have done so. If you were to think of it on your own, however, you would be more enthused -"

"I would be more _enthused_?" Severus growled and pushed away from the desk in disgust.

Minerva closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. After several moments of tense silence, she glanced at the ceiling and shook her head. "You are both IDIOTS! Hermione Granger is a living, breathing person - not some puppet you can use as you see fit, whether you think it's in her best interests or not! Wipe that blasted twinkle off your face, Albus. Hermione is NOT a child - spare her the insult of trying to sugarcoat things. You cannot take away her choices just to make things easier!"

Dumbledore said nothing, but his face betrayed a hint of shame.

"And you!" she shouted, rounding on Snape. "She may not be a child, but she isn't a calloused, desensitized adult either! She's highly intelligent, but she isn't devoid of emotions like you pretend to be. Good gods, Severus! Fifteen days ago, you _raped_ her in front of the darkest wizards of our time, and you expect her to _willingly_ come back to you for another round? Or to ingest something without knowing what it is just because _you _give it to her? It's amazing she even trusts you at all!"

Snape stiffened and visibly paled. He blinked his eyes shut and nodded in pained agreement.

McGonagall gave an exasperated sigh and threw her hands in the air.

"Is she alright?" Severus asked a few moments later, not even bothering to hide the concern in his eyes. "Is she still in pain?"

"Well, I wouldn't say she's alright," the elder woman replied, "but she isn't suffering any physical pain, no."

A few lines of tension eased from his face as he let out a deep breath.

"And so you know," Minerva added, "I've excused her from tomorrow's classes to allow her time to collect herself before we throw her back in the thick of things."

Severus gave a small nod and spoke softly. "Good."

"I assume you've already explained her absence to Harry and the young Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

"I have," she nodded. "They believe she has temporarily taken residence in the Hospital Wing."

"You do realize they will spend all evening devising some foolhardy plan to visit her, don't you?" Snape drawled.

"I've given them strict instructions not to," Minerva replied with a raised eyebrow. "Though, if that doesn't satisfy you, Severus, you're more than welcome to stand guard."

"Poppy might enjoy the company," Dumbledore added with a slight chuckle.

Snape rolled his eyes and glared at the wall.

"Speaking of Poppy," McGonagall said with a glance to his midsection. "You should let her take a look at you. I don't like the thought of you being injured."

"I'm so flattered that you care," he sneered.

"Oh, I care alright," she smirked. "If you puncture a lung and choke to death on your own blood, not only will I lose my favorite student, but I'll have to find someone to take over your lessons."

Severus snarled and stalked over to the fireplace. He threw in a pinch of floo powder and swirled through the green flames to the Hospital Wing.

When he disappeared, Minerva rested her hands against the back of an armchair and fixed Dumbledore with a look of angered incredulity.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione stifled a yawn as she finally stepped out of the warm bathroom. Peering out into the sitting room, she saw that it was currently unoccupied. Feeling somewhat relieved, she padded across the room.

The couch had been altered so it was nearly double its original width and was more than long enough for her to comfortably stretch out. A large, fluffy pillow had been placed at one end, and two tartan throw blankets had been laid out across the seat.

With a small, satisfied sigh, Hermione sank onto the couch. She pulled her feet beneath her body to sit cross-legged and stared calmly into the fire. She ran her hands across the soft flannel of her pajama bottoms, and closed her eyes as she listened to the crackling of the embers. Focusing solely on those senses, she tried to sweep her mind clear of everything else. It was not the first time she was grateful for having had Occlumency lessons - several nights had found her utilizing her new ability to keep her conscience quiet. When she had the emotional strength to focus, it worked quite well. It did not guarantee sleep, however, for as soon as she began to drift away, her shields would drop and all of her thoughts would rush back to her. So far, the only full night of rest she had gotten had been a result of the Dreamless Sleep draught.

Hermione found herself pulled from her quiet introspection by the sudden appearance of a four-legged mass upon her lap. Peeking out from beneath her lashes, she allowed a small smile as she watched Malina begin kneading her thigh. When a tiny paw hit upon an exceptionally sensitive spot, she jerked and began to giggle, earning her a reproving look from the small feline.

"Sorry," Hermione laughed, realizing she had seen the exact same look plastered upon the cat's owner several times.

Malina gave a mew of disapproval and moved onto the other leg.

"You know," she said quietly, running her hand along the cat's sleek, black spine. "My familiar would probably be jealous if he knew I seeing another cat behind his back."

The cat flashed her what could only be considered the feline equivalent of a smirk and continued with its task. After a minute or two passed, she stretched and curled up in Hermione's lap.

Hermione smiled as she continued stroking the cat's fur. As she scratched behind Malina's ears, she glanced about the room and wondered off-handedly when Professor McGonagall would be returning.

"Well, I'm still alive," she said to the cat. "So she hasn't killed him yet, I guess. If that's really how it works. Rather strange to think about it actually, isn't it? I mean, how could one life be bound so tightly to another that one's death causes the other's. I've heard about people who have been together for so long, that when one dies the other soon follows - but that's out of love, and it's kind of sweet in a sad sort of way. They'll be together forever, as they say.

"But this? It's absolutely barbaric! It's disgusting, deplorable, demeaning, and any other nasty synonyms I could possible think of. And to make it worse - I have no one to commiserate with. Even if I could tell my friends, they wouldn't understand. They'd be up in arms undoubtedly, unable to listen to reason. They wouldn't get it that there's nothing they can do - nothing anyone can do - to fix it."

Hermione sighed and willed herself not to cry. It was easier for her to do while the cat nuzzled against her hand. "My life is completely sunk, and the only ones who know it are three professors and two cats. And there's even fewer that wholeheartedly care about me. Snape cares, but only because his life depends on it. And Dumbledore - I hate to say it - but what he cares about is that its complicating his ability to spy on You-Know-Who. I screw this up, I'm dead, Snape's dead, and the Order has no one else to send in. It could cost us the war, and it would be my fault."

Malina stood and stretched so her front paws were placed on Hermione's chest. Pushing forward, she rubbed her head against the girl's chin.

Wiping away the few tears that had started collecting, Hermione scooped the cat into her arms and placed her face in the soft fur. She laughed as the feline's purring vibrated against her cheeks. "Well I'm glad you care. I honestly think Crookshanks is getting tired of being my therapist. He's probably relieved you came along actually. And besides you two, I only have Professor McGonagall, but it's not like I can come running to her every time I have to...you know. She must feel really sorry for me to let me spend the night on her couch even."

As a stray thought arose in her mind, she began to laugh almost uncontrollably. Malina glanced up at her in surprise and quickly slunk out from her grasp. The cat watched from the arm of the couch as Hermione doubled over with laughter.

"It isn't really that funny," she gasped, finally managing to suppress her giggles. "I just thought how strange it is...I mean, could you imagine their faces if I told Ron and Harry that I'd had a sleepover with McGonagall? They'd never believe me!"

The girl sighed as the cat chose to ignore her and clean its paws. When the cat stopped to yawn, curled up, and closed her eyes, Hermione suddenly found herself wishing she could do the same. Groaning, she turned so she could stretch out. Resting her head against the pillow, she stared at the ceiling and wondered if she would get any sleep at all.

A loud popping sound startled her into a seated position with her wand extended. She frowned when she saw nothing out of the ordinary.

_Must've been a house-elf_, she surmised. After spending a few nervous minutes staring into the room, she allowed herself to relax and moved to set her wand on the nearest end table. Upon doing so, she froze and stared at the small vial that she could have sworn was not there when she came out from the bath. She snatched the bottle up quickly and rolled it around on her palm. As the label declared in Snape's meticulous writing, it was another vial of Dreamless Sleep.


	23. Back to School

**A/N: Well, I'm cutting it close, but I did manage to get an update complete this weekend! WooT! Thanks to those who wished me luck on my exams - they were definitely worse than expected and I've had to spend sometime arguing with one of my professors to win credit back for the class. I knew I was completely in the right, but the whole time I kept hearing Professor Snape shouting, "Twenty points from Gryffindor for verbally attacking a teacher!" I really am a nerd...but a bad-ass nerd who actually gets her professor to apologize to the entire class. **

**I am super excited to see this story on the favorites list of 200 people! That is fantastic!  
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**As always, I try to respond to every review, but I apologize to those of you leaving unsigned reviews and those of you with PM-ing blocked. I'm thankful for you leaving them, even if I can't respond!**

**Muchas gracias to hnwhitlock2000, HPFanGirl01, Startled Boris, woodshark, jforston, Mortania Hottersander, Odile1001, Lover of Fantasy, Sev01, DedicatedReader, Lyra Lupin, Angelwells, ineverdothis, silverrose29, callalily32, Mel, Coolnetta, Potter-Watcher, Stacy Vorosco, fjums, Tilly, and memorieslost05!**

**And thank you to all of you who stopped by my other Harry Potter fic, _Misfortunes in Spying_.  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 23**

"Oi, Gin!" Ron called out to his sister as he and Harry took their places at breakfast. "You heard anything from Hermione yet?"

The slender redhead shook her head as she picked up a piece of toast. "No, have you?"

"We thought we'd sneak out early and stop by the Hospital Wing before breakfast," Harry answered, "but no such luck."

"She wasn't there?" Ginny asked with a raised brow.

"Dunno," he answered with a shrug. "We never made it inside."

"Yeah," Ron added morosely. "Snape was lurking in the hallway, being the same old righteous git he always is."

Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes. "How many points?"

"What d'you mean, 'how many points?' You think I can't even make it to breakfast on the first day of class without losing points?" he demanded with an offended expression written upon his face.

"Ron, it's Snape we're talking about," Harry responded. "Of course she does."

"Oh, true that," the redheaded boy nodded. "In that case...ten."

"Ugh," Ginny groaned. "Classes haven't even started yet, and Gryffindor's already behind."

"Well, if you haven't noticed," Harry stated, reaching for a plate of bacon. "This happens every year. At least every year we've been here."

Ron nodded enthusiastically as he dumped half the platter of eggs onto his plate. "And it's usually Snape being a git that's to blame."

Harry snickered as he dished up his own serving of eggs. "Of course."

"Absolutely nothing to do with you," Ginny returned with a mocking shake of her head. "Never stole a car, or destroyed school property, or anything -"

"Oh shut it," her brother interrupted. "I didn't mean we didn't deserve any of it. Just that Snape, er..."

"..overindulges a bit in the point taking," Harry finished, earning a shrug and a nod from the girl.

"You know, it's weird," Ron suddenly exclaimed.

"What is?" Harry asked.

"There isn't anyone saying, 'It's _Professor_ Snape, Ronald.' I didn't think I'd miss that," he said pensively.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the fourth year girl seated on her other side.

"But don't tell her I said that," Ron quickly covered. "Don't wanna encourage her any more than we need to."

"Never," Harry agreed.

"In fact," Ron continued. "I'd rather have Snape take away more points before I'd admit that to her."

"That's _Professor_ Snape to you, Mr. Weasley," a voice stated coolly from behind him.

Harry smirked and chocked back a laugh as Ron jumped at Professor McGonagall's sudden appearance.

"Sorry, Professor," he mumbled.

"Mmm-hmm," McGonagall responded with a disapproving glance. She quickly shuffled through her stack of schedules before pulling out the correct pieces of parchment. As she handed each schedule to its respective owner, she raised a brow and fixed them each with a pointed look. "And don't you two think for just one minute that I didn't notice the hourglass this morning."

"Sorry, Professor," the two boys sheepishly muttered in unison.

"See to it that you rectify that," she instructed.

"No worries, Professor," Harry answered.

"Yeah," Ron nodded. "Hermione'll make it up in no time."

The Gryffindor Head snorted as she handed Ginny her schedule and then moved on along the table.

Harry reached for his glass of pumpkin juice and took a sip as he glanced down at his schedule.

"Oi!" Ron shouted two seconds later as he suddenly found himself enjoying a pumpkin juice shower. "What the hell, Harry?"

"Sorry," he said quickly. "But you'll never believe this."

"Believe what?" the redhead asked, reaching to take the sheet of parchment from him and shaking loose a few drops of juice. After scanning the page for a second, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "No way. You're in Potions? How did that happen?"

"No idea," Harry shook his head. "I mean, I only got an 'E' on my Potions OWL. I thought he only let in 'O' students."

"That's barkers, mate," Ron stated, quickly checking over his own schedule and breathing a sigh of relief when the word Potions did not appear. "What is Snape thinking?"

"I dunno. He seemed rather pleased to get rid of me, I thought."

"Right," Ron nodded. "Maybe he realized that without you in class, he wouldn't meet his torture quota."

"Lovely," Harry muttered, angrily spearing his eggs with a fork. "The morning's really looking up now, isn't it?"

Ron shrugged and gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, at least you could partner up with Hermione. Might not be so bad. And you won't have to worry about Neville blowing the place up anymore."

"That is something," the spectacled boy declared with a grin.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Snape took in a deep breath as he straightened his cuffs and brushed a few stray ginger hairs from his robes. With a small nod to the remaining members of the staff table, he rose silently from his chair and stepped down from the dais. As he made his way towards his dungeon classroom, he gave an unspoken word of gratitude to whichever deity was currently on duty. He knew that Miss Granger was still in the midst of a peaceful slumber, and subsequently his thoughts would remain his own until she finally awoke.

Hopefully, she would remain asleep for a few more hours. Her brain needed all of the rest it could muster if she were to maintain an cover of normalcy in front of the students and staff. At the same time, he needed as much of a respite from her thoughts as he could get if he were to make it through the day without killing anyone.

As if to provide evidence to that argument, his quiet trek to the dungeons was interrupted by the reverberations of voices raised in anger. Severus immediately scowled and quickened his pace, soon rounding the corner to witness Draco Malfoy and the Potter brat in the midst of a heated exchange of words. From their body language, he surmised they were about two seconds away from drawing their wands. The other gathered students, instead of doing anything to defuse the situation or, Merlin forbid, going for help, were whispering amongst each other and standing around wearing wide-eyed expressions of nervous excitement.

Snape inwardly groaned before hardening his expression and stepping into the fray. "Enough!"

Both boys startled at his appearance, and while Potter's face further reddened in anger, Draco's mouth twisted upwards in a self-assured smirk.

"Professor," the blonde addressed him sweetly. "Potter was speaking ill of my family. I couldn't just stand by while spread such lies."

"They aren't lies, Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "I was there! Your father is -"

"One more word, Potter, and you'll spend this evening - and every other evening this month - in detention." Snape watched as the rage contorted through the Chosen One's body. Wisely, the boy slammed his jaw shut and chose to let his anger dissipate silently.

"In!" Severus barked as the door to the classroom swung open. When the collection of Advanced Potions students had all entered the room and began taking their seats, he slammed the door shut and stalked to the front of the classroom, all the while cursing Minerva, the Dark Lord, and himself - everyone who made it necessary for the boy to still be in his constant presence.

"Now, Mr. Potter," he sneered as he turned to face the students. "Since you claim to be so knowledgeable, please do enlighten us as to the nature of the Beluviadonin Draught."

Harry grit his teeth and looked as though he wished to stare a hole through the table.

"Nothing? Well then, surely in your infinitesimal wisdom, you must know which healing potion is capable of reversing the effects of the Draught of Living Death."

Again, he was met only with an irate stare from the boy. A few sniggers could be heard from the handful of Slytherins present. His own anger flared unexpectedly when he heard the comment Draco hissed under his breath.

"Where's your pet mudblood when you need it, eh, Potty?"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Snape called, using all the energy he had to reign in his desired outburst. "Perhaps you could answer one of the questions presented to Mr. Potter."

Draco's eyes narrowed only momentarily in surprise before he opened his mouth to respond, "The Wiggenweld Potion can counteract it, sir."

"Five points to Slytherin." Severus returned the blonde's smirk, though in his mind, he received immense pleasure from throttling the hell out of him. He turned his attention back to the dark-haired boy, trying to avoid the green eyes that would judge him harshly whether from behind glasses or long auburn bangs. "Today's potion should not prove difficult to those of you who_... belong_ in this class. Mr. Potter, do inform the rest of us as to which potion can be found on page eighty-four of your textbook."

"I -I don't have a textbook, sir," Harry answered after a few seconds.

Snape raised his eyebrows in contempt. "Ten points, Potter, for not having the required course materials."

"But I didn't even know I was to be in this class!" Harry argued.

"Care to make it twenty?" The older wizard pushed, staring the boy into defeat. "Macmillan! The potion on page eighty-four?"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione awoke to the sound of birds chirping. Wrinkling her nose and propping open one eyelid, she quickly checked for the source of the noise. A few seconds passed before she recognized that she was still lying on the couch in Professor McGonagall's quarters. Finally forcing herself to open both eyes, she stretched her back as she sat up.

When the mental fog of the Dreamless Sleep potion finally cleared, she realized Malina was perched upon the mantelpiece, flicking her tail as she stared closely at a delicate porcelain clock.

_Ah, that would explain the chirping, I suppose_. Hermione squinted as she attempted to read the time from her seat on the couch.

"One o'clock?" she gasped in disbelief. Her eyes grew large as she pulled her hair back behind her shoulders. "Good thing she excused me from my classes."

The black cat momentarily glanced in her direction before returning to its vigil at the timepiece.

Shaking her head, Hermione threw back the covers and climbed off of the couch. She quickly set about to folding up the blankets and stacking them neatly into a pile with the pillow before transfiguring the couch back to its original shape. When she was satisfied that everything had been returned to its rightful space, she slunk into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

A short while later, she returned to the sitting room with her pajamas and freshly-laundered school uniform in hand. She paused briefly to throw on her school robes over her t-shirt and jeans and then stepped towards the fireplace.

"Thank you," she smiled, giving Malina a hearty scratch behind the ears. "I'm sure Crooks was happy to have the night off."

Hermione watched as the cat stretched, then hopped down from the mantel and disappeared into what she assumed was Professor McGonagall's bedroom. With a quick shrug, she minimized her pile of clothing and stuck it in the pocket of her robes. The half-empty vial of Dreamless Sleep was still sitting on the end table along with a sheet of parchment that undoubtedly contained her official class schedule. She snatched up each of these items and pocketed them before walking towards the door. She glanced about the room for a moment before slipping out into the hallway.

Thankfully, nearly the entire student body was sitting through a class presently. Next to no one chose to skive off the first day of classes, and those that did would hardly be standing about in the corridor waiting to be caught by a passing staff member. Hermione breathed a soft sigh of relief over this as she calmly made her way back to Gryffindor Tower. She would see her friends surely at supper, if not briefly between their classes, so for now, she would enjoy the short stretch of time to herself.

"Oooh, you're back early," the Fat Lady crowed as Hermione reached her portrait. "Not skiving off are we?"

"No," the girl answered tersely. _Well, yes...but you can stuff it._

The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow, but said nothing besides, "Password?"

Hermione supplied the correct phrase and, as soon as the portrait swung open, quickly slipped through the hole into the common room. The room was as empty as it had been every day for the past two weeks, but now was different. She no longer felt the haunting loneliness it had held before - instead the room seemed lived-in. She gave a small quiver of a smile as she made her way towards the stairs into the girl's dormitory.

The same feeling extended into the Prefects' bedroom. Mathina and Ginny were not physically in the room, but it was as though she could sense their energies. The room was no longer her own private sanctuary - and part of her was glad of that. It would make it easier to look past the sorrow and pain that had afflicted her recently. There was a sense of normalcy that had descended back upon the room, and Hermione hoped the same could soon be said about her personal life.

Shivering slightly, she pushed those thoughts aside and moved quickly to her third of the room. Emptying her pockets onto her bed, she quickly stowed the glass vial in the drawer of her bedside table and then resized the clothing before stuffing the pajamas beneath her pillow. Hermione gave a long sigh as she regarded the clothing she had been wearing the day before.

She chewed on her bottom lip and shifted nervously, trying not to associate them with everything that had happened the previous night. A few minutes' contemplation had her shaking her head and yanking the tainted outfit from the bedcovers. She strode over to the small fireplace in the corner of the room and cast a quick _Incendio_. When the flames steadied, Hermione callously tossed the skirt and blouse on top of the fire and watched as they slowly blackened and withered beyond recognition.

Wiping her hands on her robes, she turned back towards her bed. She climbed onto the middle of the mattress and brushed away a collection of fine ginger hairs. Frowning, she visually searched the entire room for any further sign of her familiar. At seeing none, she gave a small grunt and decided he must be out hunting. Considering the mystery of the missing Crookshanks to be solved, Hermione began to study the schedule she had been given. Today was Wednesday, and as such, she had already missed the practical portion of Advanced Potions and a Charms lecture. Glancing at the clock beside her bed, she realized Herbology was already half over, but if she wanted to, she could still make the Arithmancy lesson which started at three-thirty.

Hermione wrinkled her nose at the idea. She normally loved the class, but the thought of staring at a bunch of numbers and magical variables for the rest of her afternoon just did not sound appealing in the least. Besides, she had been given the day off to get her head back together - it probably would be a bad idea to waste what little buffer time she had.

_No, tomorrow morning's Defense lesson will come soon enough._ Flopping back against her pillows, Hermione continued scanning through her schedule. It was with a great sense of relief that she noted she would not have another Potions class until Monday's lecture hour. Four days would give her enough time to pull it together enough to face him in class.

_Hopefully, at least_. Hermione sighed as she lifted herself from her bed and stepped over to her desk. She pinned her schedule to the edge of her bookshelf with a temporary sticking charm, and then pulled out her Charms and Herbology texts before making her way back down to the common room to wait for her friends to return.

**X x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Well, at least she didn't predict your demise yet," Ron shrugged as he and Harry stepped through the portrait hole.

"Yet," Harry muttered darkly. "Only a matter of time."

"Hey," Ron gestured to one of the sofas where Hermione lounged, seemingly lost within one of her textbooks. "Back to normal, you think?"

The other boy gave a mournful expression. "Is there really a normal anymore?"

"Hermione!" Ron called out, ignoring his friend's sudden turn of melancholy. After spending a good portion of the summer watching him grieve for his godfather, Ron had become quite immune to Harry's constantly changing emotions.

At the sound of her name, Hermione's eyes snapped up from the page and fixed onto her friends. She gave a small, forced smile and let the cover of the book fall shut. She did not care if she lost her page, seeing as she had spent a good portion of the past two hours staring at the same sentence.

Ron moved over to the side of the couch, and she pulled her legs beneath her so he could take a seat beside her. He fixed her with a concerned expression. "Are you alright?"

She merely nodded in response, not quite yet trusting her ability to do so verbally. She had not meant to dwell on thoughts regarding her situation with Snape, but she had only managed to avoid them for a very short amount of time. Apparently it had been a mistake to attempt the Herbology reading - she had only made it a few pages before coming across the section on the proper methods of plant binding, and subsequently stumbling back into the whirlwind of painful images.

Schooling her features, Hermione shifted into a more comfortable position and set her books on the floor. "How was the first day of classes?"

The redhead shrugged and rested his arms along the back of the couch. "Mine went pretty well. Can't say the same for Harry, though."

Quickly glancing over at the other boy, she took in his pained expression and gave a sympathetic smile. "I thought I warned you about continuing to take Divination."

Amusement flickered in his eyes as Harry shook his head and flopped into a nearby armchair. "Could've used your help in Potions, though."

Somehow Hermione managed enough resolve not to flinch. Ducking her head, she shielded her eyes and sighed. "I doubt I would've been much help today anyway."

"About that," Ron interrupted, as though he had suddenly become aware of his proximity to her. "You're not contagious, are you?"

"What?" she hissed softly, catching the attention of other students passing through the space.

"Well, I mean, you were really sick and -"

"Oh, right. Sorry," she cut him off, belatedly remembering the cover story of her supposed illness. "My head's still a bit foggy, I guess. But no, I'm not contagious."

"You're sure?" he pressed, still leaning his upper body away from her.

"Yes, Ronald, I'm _quite_ sure," she responded with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms. "I guarantee that if there were any chance of you suffering my affliction, you would know it. You probably wouldn't be sitting, either."

"Oh," he muttered, somewhat confused as he returned to his original position.

"Sorry, Harry." Hermione returned her attention to her dark-haired friend, who simply shrugged in response. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Harry let out a large gust of air and covered his face with his hands. "It was bad. Like really bad. Snape was particularly nasty today, and since I was the only Gryffindor there - and since I'm me - he really held no punches."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and tried to quell the rising feeling of guilt. She knew the exact reason for Snape's foul mood, and it made her feel absolutely horrid that Harry was receiving the brunt of it.

"I mean, for starters," Harry continued. "I didn't even know that I was to take the class until an hour before it bloody started, and he knew it! He started hammering me with questions before I'd barely even managed to sit down, and then docked me further points for not having the required textbook for the course! Just how the bloody hell am I to have a textbook for a class I didn't think I was taking!"

"Why didn't you know?" she asked, frowning.

"I thought I hadn't made it in," he responded. "I only got an 'E' on the OWLS."

"But he only accepts -"

"I know!" Harry shouted. "He made it quite clear that I didn't belong there."

"Then why -"

"That's the question we've been trying to answer all day," Ron supplied. "We thought maybe you'd have an idea."

"Why would I have an idea about Snape?" she snapped.

Ron's eyes went wide and he flicked a quick glance towards Harry. "Well, you've always been the brains, Hermione. We just thought you could figure it out or something."

"Oh." Hermione paled a little as she considered her overreaction.

"Are you sure you're alright?" The redhead queried, resting a hand on her knee.

She swallowed nervously as she glanced down at his hand, and nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm just a little...just feeling a little overwhelmed is all. I'll be fine tomorrow."

Pushing up from the couch and out from under Ron's compassionate gesture, she rose to her feet and collected her textbooks.

"Whoa, hold up a minute!" Ron called out, jumping off the couch and grabbing hold of her right hand. "Hermione, what happened?"

Her breath caught as she looked down to see him gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles. She had quite forgotten about the yellowed bruise that was still visible. "I..erm...accidently...shut my hand in one of my trunks. Quite stupid really."

Raising her gaze from their conjoined hands to Ron's face, she swallowed nervously as she took in the worried expression written in his blue eyes. Quickly snatching her hand from his, she dropped her eyes to the floor and tried to fight the shamed blush that was spreading up from her neck. Without looking back at him, she turned to make her way back up to the dormitory.

"I'm going to drop these books in my room and then I'm going to try to get my assignments before supper. I'll see you both then."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As the last remaining Hufflepuff third year scampered out into the hallway, Severus flicked his wrist and collapsed into his chair as the door slammed shut. Resting his elbows on his desk, he held his head in his hands and sighed deeply. As he had expected, it had become much harder to focus on his teaching when Hermione had returned to consciousness. He had tried to ignore it, and had managed to push on in spite of the distraction. When her thoughts returned to dwell solely on the binding and subsequent re-committal, however, it took every fiber of his being not to lose it. As such, he had undoubtedly taken his disparagement of the students to a higher level than usual.

Groaning, he knew he was in for a suppertime lecture from Minerva and the other Heads of House for their record-breaking first day point losses. Their censure may soften a bit after a glance at the hourglasses, though, for Slytherin had lost nearly as many points for minor infractions in the fifth year lecture. The behavior normally would have only earned them a disappointed stare from their leader, but since punishing Draco directly had been out of the question, Severus had looked for any opportunity to make up the difference.

With a glance at the clock on the back wall of the classroom, Snape let out a deep breath and stood from his chair. There was enough time for a decent shower in his quarters before he had to make his way up to the Great Hall.

After closing the classroom door behind him and placing a set of wards, he quickly made his way down the hall towards his office. Once inside, he quickly strode to the wall space directly behind his desk chair and waited a few seconds until the bricks faded into a dark-stained wooden door. Pushing through, he climbed the narrow stone staircase until it reached a small landing where another door appeared at his command.

Severus turned the brass knob and opened the door wide enough to slip into his bedroom. He came to a sudden stop in the middle of the room as his eyes locked onto the fluffy form curled up on his forest green pillows.

"Still here, are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. "I thought I told you to beat it."

The cat popped open his eyelids before lifting his head to meet the Potions Master's glare. It then opened its mouth in an apathetic yawn and stuck out its tongue.

"She was looking for you, you know," he muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed to remove his dragonhide boots. "Seemed to think you needed a night off, and yet you decided to spend your free time in the dungeons being an absolute nuisance. Apparently I was wrong in assuming the Weasleys were the only ginger menaces plaguing the castle."

_I'm talking to a sodding cat, for Merlin's sake_! Snape shook his head as he stood and removed his teaching robes. He had never particularly cared for cats. They were sly, scheming creatures that could turn positively demonic at the drop of a hat - he got enough of those characteristics when in the company of the Dark Lord and his minions. His only soft spot for the animal likely stemmed from the friendly animosity shared between he and Minerva.

As he unbuttoned the cuffs of his jacket, he glanced back at the furball who was currently running its pink tongue through its thick fur. Severus let out a bemused snort as he recalled the feline's unexpected appearance the night before. The damn thing had virtually emerged from nowhere, suddenly leaping onto his lap as he stared sullenly at the fire and splattering his tumbler of firewhiskey across his robes. He had cursed loudly and thrown the animal off his lap repeatedly, but the ginger creature kept crawling back until he just gave up and allowed the cat to remain.

And while Hermione slept peacefully under the influence of the Dreamless Sleep, Snape had expected to spend the night tossing and turning through his own nightmares. Instead, he had been surprised to wake in the morning, somewhat rested with a vibrating, furry mass upon his chest.

_Perhaps cats aren't so bad_, he mused. He thought briefly of the recently-deceased Sirius Black, and the recently-employed Remus Lupin. _Certainly superior to dogs_, _at any rate_.

As Severus made his way towards the bathroom door, his eyes narrowed and he once again fixed his gaze on the girl's familiar.

"I swear, cat, if you peed anywhere in here, your interloping days are through. Miss Granger will have to put up with a stuffed cat for her remaining therapy sessions. Is that understood?"

Crookshanks had turned his head to listen and, as Snape finished, the cat lifted one of his hind legs and began to lick his rump clean.

Severus gave a disgusted shudder, muttered something about needing new pillow cases, and shut the bathroom door behind him.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

The castle was relatively quiet as Hermione made her rounds that night. As such, there was little to distract her from her discomforted musings. Her partner for the evening, Jason Wilcox, was the other new Gryffindor prefect and had kept his chattering to a minimum. It was his first set of rounds, and she could tell he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"You could calm down a bit," she muttered coldly.

"Sorry," the boy stammered. "Just new to this is all."

Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. "You'll be fine, Jason. It really isn't that difficult. Honestly."

Even in the low torchlight, she could see the blush spread across the younger boy's face. "Sorry. Just don't wanna screw up."

Rolling her eyes, she paused momentarily to glance down a side corridor. She could have sworn she have seen movement, but nothing appeared to be amiss. "What's to screw up? You walk the route, check the hiding places, and if someone's up to something they shouldn't be, you take away points. You're never to go on your own, you're always paired so you have back-up, and if the two of you still can't handle it, you go to a staff member for help.

"There aren't any Death Eaters hiding in the alcoves, and as long as you're fair about it, there won't be any repercussions," she continued. "So like I said, it really isn't that difficult."

"I guess," Jason muttered and dropped into silence.

At the boy's humiliated tone, Hermione felt a large hit of guilt gnawing at her stomach. She had not meant to snap at him - she had been just as nervous as he was a year ago - but his dithering had set her on edge. She had more pressing issues to deal with than building up the confidence of a budding prefect. It was hard enough dealing with the constant well-wishes from her housemates and the steady stream of 'How are you feeling?'s coming from staff and student alike, but when you added in the situation of Ron's probable interest in being more than her friend and her inability of ever committing herself to him, it was damn near impossible. If Voldemort or Snape did not kill her first, the stress would.

And now she was an entire day behind on her schoolwork. She had managed to track down Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Vector to get her assignments, and had made every effort to assure them she was feeling much better and would have the work done before the next lecture. She had hoped to get the Potions assignment from Harry until he had explained at supper that everyone had been assigned an individual list of ingredients to research and theorize upon possible combinations. That meant that she would still have to seek out the Potions Master for her homework.

Hermione sighed, knowing full well she was not ready to deal with him that night. She had purposely avoided his scrutinizing gaze during dinner and had tried rather hard to forget that he could hear her thoughts. She would have until Monday to complete the essay, so she could forgo the meeting at least one more day.

The sound of a throat clearing behind them pulled her from her thoughts. When she spun, wand in hand, to face no one other than the Slytherin Head himself, she quite visibly jumped.

"Professor Snape!" Jason spluttered, wide-eyed. "We're just doing rounds, sir!"

"I had worked that out for myself, Mr. Wilcox," Snape sneered before shifting his eyes back to Hermione, who had gone rigid with her wand arm still extended. At his raised eyebrow, she seemed to remember herself, relaxed slightly and lowered her wand.

"W-what can we do for you, Professor?" she finally managed.

Severus regarded her for a minute, flicking his gaze briefly to her companion, and then shifted his stance. "You were absent from my class, Miss Granger. While I've been told you have a valid reason for doing so, I do still expect your work to be completed along with your classmates'."

_You came all this way to tell me what I already knew?_ Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I was planning to get the assignment from you tomorrow."

"Don't bother," he sniffed, pulling a scroll from within his robes and handing it to her. "Good evening, Miss Granger, Mr. Wilcox."

Hermione glanced down at the roll of parchment in her hand and then at his retreating form. "Wait, Professor!"

Snape halted his stride and turned with a questioning gaze.

"What about the potion brewed in class?"

The wizard straightened his robes and ducked his head. "I had assumed that your flask would have made full marks as usual. However, if you feel the annoying need to discover for yourself, you may find me in my office at seven-thirty tomorrow evening."

Without a further word, he disappeared around the corner.

"That was a bit weird," Jason muttered. "Almost as weird as his taking points from Slytherin."

Hermione snapped her gaze to the boy beside her. "What?"

"Yeah, in our class today, he ended up taking thirty points from his own house. It would have been brilliant had he not taken ours as well."

Frowning, she slipped the scroll into her pocket and continued along the route. Jason took a few seconds to realize she had started moving again and had to run to catch up to her.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

A few hours later, Hermione laid in bed staring at the underside of her canopy. She listened to the soft sounds of her roommates sleeping as she went over everything in her head. She had spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what to do about Ron, but she found her thoughts kept drifting back to Snape. Certain things just weren't adding up. Snape being exceptionally angry in class - well, that made sense. Snape taking it out on his Slytherins - that did not.

Nor did it make sense that he would allow Harry into the course without the required grades. It was possible that Dumbledore had interceded and forced him to keep the Boy-Who-Lived on even though he had not earned it. That would explain why Snape would have tried to make him feel as though he did not belong. In that case, though, why would Dumbledore not tell Harry he was in the class? He would have known well enough in advance to have Harry purchase a book - heck, Dumbledore probably would have bought his golden boy a book himself.

Then why? If anyone other than Dumbledore had suggested it, he would have none so kindly told them where to stick it. No one else had that kind of power over him - besides Voldemort, and that was highly unlikely for him to want Harry to better educated in any branch of magic.

_"...I was the only Gryffindor there..."_

That was true for today, but not for the rest of the year. Hermione would be in class, too. Could that be it? Without Harry, she would be the only Gryffindor in class. She got along alright with the members of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, but she could not claim to be close to any of them. By allowing Harry in, she had a friend in class - a lab partner who had her back.

And what about his claim that she would receive full marks for a potion she did not even complete? He had _never_ given her full marks on anything - something that had frustrated her beyond tears several times over the past five years. He always found something to criticize even when the brew was perfect. Once he had even gone so far as to dock marks because the cap on her flask had not been tightened fully.

Hermione sighed and turned onto her side. Her mind would not stop spinning through all of the questions long enough for her to fall asleep. The flask of Dreamless Sleep in her bedside table was tempting, but she could not run the risk of sleeping through half of her classes again. Staring at her bed-curtains, she wondered where Crookshanks had been hiding all day. He usually helped her calm down enough to get a few hours of sleep.

As if he had known she was seeking his comfort, a squashed face with golden eyes suddenly appeared at her feet.

"Crooks!" she cooed, sitting up to scoop him into her arms. "Where have you been? I missed you!"

The cat purred in response and flicked his tail.

"What's this?" she asked, spotting a ball of paper at the foot of the bed. She set the feline back onto the bed covers, and he lazily batted at the crumpled parchment. Curious, Hermione reached for it. "Been playing, have you?"

Under her familiar's careful gaze, Hermione unfolded the paper and attempted to smooth out the creases. The first side was completely blank, but upon flipping it over, she let out a small gasp. The page was covered in scribbles, every one of which read **_Professor S. Snape_**.

"Where did you get this, Crooks?" she asked with a frown as she stared at all of the signatures. Each one was slightly different from the others. It looked very similar to the pages she used to fill up when she was younger, trying to perfect her own signature.

_Well, this is strange. Why would a grown man be penning out his name like a teenage girl? He must have been using the same flourish for the past twenty years or more - why change it now?_ She traced her finger along the largest copy at the top of the page. It was the signature she recognized from the past, the one she attributed to him, the one that was most similar to the etching across her spine.

Shuddering, she ran her finger down the page, scanning each alternate version. As she neared the end of the parchment, she stopped suddenly and raised her eyes to stare off into space. The last adaptation seemed familiar, but where had she seen it?

It came to her then - the image of the last missive he had sent her. A frown formed on her face as she regarded the memory of the note. The handwriting was the same as it had always been - angry and sprawling - but the signature had been different. It was not like the one at the top of the parchment she had now, but was instead identical to the one at the bottom.

_So he _had _changed his signature, then...but why?_ Hermione scowled and crumpled the paper back into a ball. She tossed it off the end of the bed and watched in mild amusement as Crookshanks tore off after it. She flopped back onto her pillow and covered her face with her hands.

"Why is everything so bloody complicated!" Hermione groaned loudly.

"H'mione?" came a sleepy mumble from Ginny's bed. "What's wrong?"

_Shite_. She grimaced, realizing she had forgotten she was no longer alone. She would have to remember to cast silencing charms from now on, lest she wake up screaming again.

"Nothing's wrong, Gin," she lied. "Just a touch of insomnia. Go back to sleep."

"Mmmkay," Ginny replied quietly before drifting back to sleep.

Casting a silencing charm around her bed, Hermione let out a deep breath and closed her eyes. One thing was for certain - she would not wait until Monday to speak with him. She would keep the appointment in his office the following evening, just on the off chance she could figure out what the hell he was on about.


	24. Performance Issues

**A/N: Forgive me for not updating sooner. I spent a lot of time with family over the long weekend, and this past week has been rather emotional. Four of our students were killed in a tragic car accident last Monday, and the entire campus has pulled together to support the families and friends. It's been rather awe-inspiring to be a part of it. I'm more proud to be a student here now than I was when we were crowned National Champs a few months ago.**

**And now it's BLIZZARD TIME! Just fully stocked up my groceries, and am looking forward to a lovely snow day filled with studying Clinical Parasitology and Bacterial Physiology. Hmm...I miss the good ol' days when snow days meant doing fun things.  
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**Anywho, thanks for your patience! Also - Congrats to MadamigellaSnape for leaving the 400th review! It's also exciting to see this story on the Alerts list of 400 users. **

**Thanks for continuing to leave reviews - hnwhitlock2000, jforston, woodshark, KittyPimms, Lover of Fantasy, memorieslost05, Sev01, DedicatedReader, Startled Boris, Mel, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, fjums, Lil Tine, Odile1001, Coolnetta, Stacy Vorosco, BlooDsuckKkerR69, Lyra Lupin, silverose29, callalily32, Angelwells, vividlies, bailey vicious, Tilly, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, vampirela69, MadamigellaSnape, OctoberLove91, and Jinx452!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 24**

Hermione groaned as she slapped the bathroom door with one hand. In her other arm was a pile of clothing.

"You alright?" Mattie asked from across the room, stripping out of her pajamas.

"I'm fine," Hermione answered, glaring at the floor. The sound of the shower could be heard from beyond the closed bathroom door. "Gin just needs to hurry up is all."

"If you have to pee, I don't think she'll mind. She doesn't seem like the type to mind. I mean, how could you with that many people in one house. The door probably isn't even latched."

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I don't really have to pee. I went earlier. I just forgot to grab my clothes before Ginny stole the shower."

"Oh. You know you can change out here, right?" the tall blonde asked as she tossed her pajama bottoms onto her bed. "It's not like I haven't seen any of it before. I'm not going to perve on you, either."

_Oh, I'm quite sure there's something you haven't seen before_. Hermione sighed, walking back to her bed and flopping down. She blew out an exasperated puff of air, and stared morosely at the bed curtains. A few seconds later, as an idea bloomed in her mind, she quickly sat up and yanked all of the curtains closed. She quickly wriggled out of her sleep shirt, donned her bra, and began working on buttoning her blouse. Lying back down, she squirmed her way out of her bottoms and rolled her eyes. _This is utterly ridiculous. I'm simply going to have to get up earlier from now on._

When Hermione had finished changing, she pulled open the curtains and stepped into the room. Upon seeing the strange look that Mathina was sending her way, she simply shrugged and began packing her schoolbag for the day.

"You're definitely stranger than last year, Granger," Mattie muttered, shouldering her own bag and making her way towards the door. "Just don't get too strange, alright?"

The bushy-haired girl snorted. "Try not to."

As the blonde disappeared into the stairwell, the bathroom door creaked open, and Ginny stepped out while toweling dry her hair.

"Morning," she yawned.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in response, but paused when she noticed how the younger girl was watching her. "What?"

"N-nothing," Ginny stammered, her eyebrow raising at the hostility in Hermione's voice. She folded the towel over her arm and cleared her throat. "It's just that you look terrible, Hermione. Didn't you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much," Hermione responded, fastening her school robes. "I couldn't seem to get my brain to switch off."

The redhead nodded and tilted her head. "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"No," Hermione answered as she slipped her bag onto her shoulder.

"You sure?" she pressed.

Hermione took in a deep breath and nodded. "It's just something I have to deal with on my own."

"Okay," Ginny said softly. "But if you need to vent or anything, I'm here for you. I'm a much better listener than the boys."

"Thanks." The older girl forced a smile as she set out for the Great Hall for breakfast.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Remus Lupin casually sat atop his desk as he watched the sixth-year students file in for their first Defense lesson.

"Find a seat everyone," he instructed. He winked at Harry and Ron as they took desks near the front of the room. The twinkle in his eye dimmed noticeably, though, as Hermione shuffled into the seat beside Harry. Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, and her usual excitement for learning had been replaced by a quiet and apathetic melancholy.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention back to the other students in the classroom.

"Welcome back, everyone. I'm quite sure you all remember who I am. I hope you all had pleasant summers," he smiled, deliberately avoiding the eyes of the three Gryffindors in front, "And that you are all ready for another school year. It appears that you have all survived your OWLS - well done you.

"However, for those of you who are expecting another year like the last, I'm sorry to say you will be sadly disappointed."

A smattering of giggles and wide-eyed expressions filled the room. Ron and Harry exchanged smirking glances, though Hermione continued to stare at Lupin as though nothing amusing - let alone anything at all - had been said.

Upon noticing Remus's concerned gaze had once again settled on her, Hermione exhaled deeply and dropped her eyes to the top of her desk. She knew the man had continued speaking, but she had paid little attention to his words. She was not really thinking about anything in particular - not about the binding or Snape, or about classes, or much else. Instead, she seemed to just be staring off into the ether while her mind sought the rest it did not achieve the night before.

Remus's voice drifted in and out of her consciousness as the class period progressed.

"...start with revision...evaluate skill levels and...focus this year will be primarily on non-verbal magic...achieved this?...will be difficult for some...take majority of time... tell me the theory..."

A strange silence descended upon the room, and Hermione snapped out of her mental fog. Somehow, she had managed to perceive that the attention of the entire room had shifted from Lupin to her. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced quickly at Harry and Ron, who were both staring at her in obvious expectation. She nervously bit her lip and shifted her eyes to the front of the room.

Lupin was looking at her out of the corner of his eye as he repeated, "Can anyone tell me the theory behind non-verbal magic?"

Again, his words were met only by a shocked silence.

Hermione could feel fifteen pairs of eyes settle on the back of her neck. Taking in a nervous breath, she folded her arms across her chest and sank down lower in her seat.

"Has _no one_ done their reading yet?" Remus asked in mild disbelief.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, nudging her lightly with his elbow. He widened his eyes and gestured with his head towards the professor.

She closed her eyes briefly, swallowed in apprehension, and then stared deliberately at the top of her desk.

Lupin made a disappointed sigh and stood up from his desk for the first time that class period. "I guess it looks like you'll all be doing a bit of reading by the end of next week. I'll expect a summary of the chapter introducing the concept to be written in your own words and turned in to me by the start of next Friday's practical session."

Several groans were emitted, and Neville Longbottom raised his hand hesitantly after glancing at Hermione with a strange look. When Lupin addressed him, he asked how long the essay was required to be.

"There are no real length requirements," the professor answered thoughtfully, "so long as you adequately explain your understanding of the theory of non-verbal magic."

Ron snickered and caught Harry's attention. "He does remember Hermione's in this class, right? He'll be reading her essay for hours! Think we should warn him?"

The other boy snorted and shook his head.

"Oh, right," the redhead nodded. "Maybe it'll keep him from assigning any more essays this year."

Harry grinned and turned to look at the girl beside him, expecting to receive a withering look of reproach. His eyebrows quickly rose in surprise when she had not even bothered to look up from her desk.

"Alright," Lupin spoke, glancing up at the clock on the wall. "Since it is the first day of class, I don't see the need to keep you the full hour - unless there are any objections?"

He paused for a minute, and then smiled. "Seeing none, be gone with you. Remember to get good sleep tonight, though! We'll spend our practical session tomorrow morning discovering whether or not you all are up to snuff."

Chatter broke out amongst the students as they all began gathering their books and making their way out of the door. Hermione sighed as she stood from her chair.

"Miss Granger," Remus addressed her, "may I have a moment of your time?"

She nodded slowly and waited silently for the classroom to empty. Harry and Ron shrugged at each other, smiled at Lupin, and followed the rest of the students into the hallway.

The disheveled professor had returned their friendly expression and watched them leave before turning back to face Hermione. His countenance melted into one of sympathy, and he leaned back against his desk.

"Is everything alright, Hermione?"

She took in a deep breath. "I suppose so. I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

Remus nodded. "I understand. Are you feeling better? I heard you were quite ill at the Welcoming Feast."

"Er, yeah," she shifted nervously. "I was feeling rather unwell, but it's been taken care of now. I'm better now."

"Good," he smiled. "I do apologize, though. I should have noticed you were not feeling well the last time we spoke."

Hermione shook her head. "No, don't. It...it came on rather suddenly, actually."

"I see. Well, I am glad Madam Pomfrey could set you to rights."

She closed her eyes and nodded, while Remus gave her a scrutinizing look.

"I meant what I said to you that day, Hermione," he said after clearing his throat. "If ever you have the need to talk, my door will always be open to you. Do not hesitate to approach me."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You are more than welcome," he smiled. "Is there anything you wish to discuss now?"

Hermione swallowed heavily and shook her head. "No, sir - but I do have to get to History."

"Alright," he nodded, gesturing towards the door. "I will see you in class tomorrow morning."

She gave a small nod, and quickly strode towards the door. She was only a few feet from the classroom when she found herself walking in between Ron and Harry.

"What'd Remus want?" Harry asked.

Hermione shrugged. "Nothing really. He just wanted to see if I was feeling better."

"Oh." The two boys nodded in understanding, and the three of them walked to the History of Magic classroom in relative silence. Upon walking into the room, they found three empty desks near the back. Ron and Harry let out identical sighs as they prepared for the lecture, and Hermione pulled out a notebook, ink pot, and quill from her backpack. She was determined to pay attention during this lecture.

Professor Binns floated through the blackboard and immediately launched into the material. Hermione managed to copy down a few sentences, but soon she felt her mind go blank again and her quill stopped scribbling.

Twenty minutes later, Ron yawned and sleepily glanced over at her. His eyes widened as he noticed she was half-asleep and her notebook page stood virtually empty. His jaw dropped open and he quickly punched Harry in the shoulder, jarring the dark-haired boy awake.

"What?" Harry hissed, rubbing his arm.

Ron gestured over to Hermione. "I don't think we're getting any notes from her today."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione took a deep breath as she made her way towards Snape's office door later that evening. She closed her eyes as she raised her hand to deliver three soft knocks.

"Enter!" he bellowed from within.

She bit down on her lip as she turned the knob and pushed open the door.

Snape sat behind his desk, furiously scratching with his quill on a sheet of parchment as his eyes quickly scanned back and forth across the pages of an old text. He glanced up briefly when she stepped into the room, looked over at the clock in surprise, and set down his quill.

"Forgive me, Miss Granger," he said after clearing his throat. "I apparently lost track of time."

Hermione shrugged, clasping her hands in front of her.

Severus leaned back and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "You may sit if you would like."

"I'd prefer to stand," she responded quickly, nervously glancing about the room. "Will I be brewing the same potion you assigned to them during class? Harry mentioned that it was the -"

"You will not be brewing anything this evening," he interrupted. He gestured to a flat, leather-bound book that was resting on the corner of his desk. "I've already given you your marks."

Hermione immediately redirected her wandering gaze to his face. "You gave me credit for a potion I didn't even attempt?"

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "You brewed a potion of equivalent difficulty two weeks ago. I based your grade on that."

"Did you really give me full marks?"

Snape took in a deep breath and nodded.

"But you've _never _given me full marks!" she exclaimed, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Well, then," he sneered, "if it upsets you that much, I'll be sure to re-evaluate your score should your product prove to be ineffective at any point in the near future."

Hermione blushed and hastily dropped her gaze to the floor. "If I'm not here to make up a missed potion, why is it that you asked me to come?"

He hesitated momentarily and then sighed. "I had thought there might be some things you wish to discuss."

"Oh," she answered. "So why the confrontation during rounds last night? Couldn't you have just used telepathy or whatever it is we have now?"

Severus cleared his throat and glanced away from her face. "You had requested that I not use that as a means of communicating with you."

"But you used it at the feast!" she declared loudly, gesturing towards the ceiling.

"_That_," he responded sharply, "was an emergency situation. This is not."

Her momentary spurt of anger deflated and she wrapped her arms around herself. She sucked back a few tears and let out a large breath.

Snape dropped his eyes to his desk as she struggled not to cry. He flicked his wand and transfigured the rickety wooden chair back into her usual oversized armchair. "Please sit, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded slowly and sank into the chair, defeated. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and stared quietly at the large crystal inkwell on his desk. After a few minutes of tense silence, her voice came out in little more than a whisper.

"Is it going to be like that every time?"

He winced visibly and unfolded his arms, dropping his hands into his lap. He shook his head and apologized. "I did not think it would have happened so suddenly. It was not my intention to cause you any further harm."

She nodded and slowly settled back into the chair, pulling her knees up to her chest. As she fiddled with a loose thread on her robe, she raised her eyes to meet his. "Was it true what you said - that I would have started seizing if we had waited?"

Severus nodded very slowly and shifted uncomfortably. "Your nervous system was already severely over-taxed, it was only a matter of time before the neurons in your brain began firing excessively as well. After that, your body would effectively short-circuit, and your internal organs would begin shutting down. I did not know how much time we had left."

Hermione took a large gulp of air and buried her face against her knees. She drew her arms to her body, shivering, and sniffled with tears. "I should have come to you. I should have, but I was so stupid - trying to convince myself it wasn't happening. So _stupid_. I'm so sorry, Professor - I shouldn't have fought you. It was just...just when you touched me, it hurt so much. It felt so much like the _Cruciatus_ that I could practically hear Bellatrix taunting me in my head, and it was like I was back there again. I didn't want to go back. If I hurt you at all, Professor, I am really, really sorry."

"I was not injured," he lied, suddenly aware of the stiffening of the muscles on his left side.

She fixed him with a teary gaze and relaxed in noticeable relief. "Good. I know you were only doing what you had to, but I wasn't really thinking clearly at the time."

He gave a short nod, conjured up a clean handkerchief and handed it across the desk. "There is no need for apology."

She gave a small, appreciative smile as she took it from him.

"It is understandable, Miss Granger," he continued, watching as she dried her eyes. "The _Cruciatus_ is similar in its attack on the body, so I would imagine the effects would be comparable."

"Oh, they are," she responded quietly. "_Believe_ me."

Snape let out a sigh and ran his hand across his face. "I regret deeply that you should have that knowledge in your possession."

She shrugged and leaned against the back of the chair. "It isn't your fault."

"It is my fault, however, that I did not demand the re-committal take place sooner."

Hermione pinched her lips together and considered his admission. He was not entirely to blame in that respect - she could have allowed it to occur sooner. She could see the guilt written upon his face as he avoided her eyes, and she knew she had to assuage some of that pain. It was not fair to let him carry so much culpability.

Severus shifted his gaze back to her in surprise, and she remembered he could hear what she was thinking. Nevertheless, she felt as though it needed to be spoken out loud, as if releasing it to the universe made it more valid. She needed to hear it just as much as he did.

"I think, sir, that if you had pushed me to do it sooner, I would have resented you more for it. I would not have fully understood the pain you were saving me from. I think you've known me long enough, Professor, to know that I don't appreciate people telling me what to do. I generally need to experience things for myself - and, as agonizing as this experience was, I think it had to happen.

"So please don't take the blame, Professor. My anger is not directed at you, but at the situation we're in. I may have panicked at first, but I've come to realize certain things since then." She let out a deep breath and studied his face. "I hope you understand this."

Snape closed his eyelids for a long moment, and then cleared his throat. "And while coming to these realizations, have you paid any attention to your coursework?"

Hermione blew out a gust of air and straightened, dropping her feet back to the floor. "I'm working on it, sir."

"See that you do," he emphasized with a raised eyebrow. "And have you been practicing your Occlumency skills?"

"I'm quite sure that if I hadn't been, I wouldn't be sitting in front of you right now," she responded thoughtfully.

Severus pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. "We will need to continue lessons on top of your class schedule and Prefect duties. Do you think you can manage this?"

"I kind of have to, don't I?" she asked with a sigh.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards into a small smirk. "Indeed."

"Are we starting tonight?"

Snape shook his head. "We will resume them next week, when I can find the time. For the time being, practice your focusing, and get caught up on your work."

Hermione nodded in response and when he returned his eyes to his book, she wondered if that was to be taken as a dismissal.

The wizard sighed and waved his hand in an attempt to shoo her away.

She rolled her eyes and pushed out of the chair. She was halfway to the door before she stopped and turned back towards him. "Erm, professor?"

He halted his reading and raised his head to acknowledge her question.

"About the potion you tried to give me," she ventured, shifting on her feet. "What was -"

"Do your essay," he interrupted gruffly.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and closed her mouth in confusion. He stared at her pointedly and then returned to his work. She watched him for a few moments before changing her focus. "Thank you for letting Harry into your class. I know you didn't have to do that."

Snape rolled his eyes and continued writing.

"Though it wasn't his fault he didn't have a book," she chastised. "You didn't have to take it out on him."

Silence pervaded upon the room, and Hermione waited several minutes before sighing and walking towards the door.

"If Potter were intelligent as everyone claims him to be, he would surely send for one," he called out. "Until then, he can use the bloody library."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione scowled as she climbed through the portrait hole into Gryffindor tower. Snape had seemed halfway approachable that night, yet completely reverted the minute she had asked about the potion. Obviously, it had not been _Olvideregrete,_ as she had originally thought, for Professor McGonagall had not seen to harm him.

_But then why won't he tell me?_ She let out a frustrated sigh.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called out cheerfully from where he was playing wizard's chess with Seamus. "Glad you're still alive!"

"How'd the potion go?" Harry chimed in.

She shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I'm going to go work on homework, though. Good night."

As they returned the friendly sentiment, she quickly dashed up the stairs to her bedroom. Mattie looked up from her desk as the door opened and then returned to her essay. Hermione crossed to her own desk, flopped down in the chair, and rested her head on the desk. After a few minutes, she sighed and sat back up, pulling out her assignment planner. She frowned when she found herself staring at a blank schedule.

_Of course it's bloody blank. You haven't written in it_. Hermione sighed and picked up one of the new quills, dipped it in the ink, and began to scratch out her deadlines. She had an Herbology reading and an Arithmancy worksheet to complete before the next day. Everything else could wait until the weekend.

Twenty minutes later, she pushed her Arithmancy paper aside in frustration and tossed her quill against the desk, splattering ink droplets across the parchment. Hermione leaned back in her chair and rubbed her forehead. As she took a deep breath, her eyes paused for a minute on the rolled up scroll peeking out from beneath her Herbology textbook. She scrunched up her face, realizing she had yet to even open the Potions assignment. Curiosity overtook her desire to follow the prioritized list, and she quickly snatched at it. Cracking the seal, she unrolled it and let her eyes scan over the prompt.

**_Given the following list of ingredients, thoroughly describe the magical properties of each and theorize on possible resulting potions and their uses._**

It sounded like an assignment she would normally relish - it was a logic problem after all. Research seemed to be her middle name, and she could spend hours buried in library books. Today, though, she would rather just crawl in bed and ignore it all.

_Whoa, hold on_. Her eyes quickly skimmed through the list - _Alchemilla vulgaris_, Dong Qui root, _Rubus idaeus_ leaves, Valerian root, Kava Kava, _Avena sativa_, Motherwort, Cinnamon Bark, Bat Nut, and Bittersweet.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she realized half of those herbs had been included in the description for _Olvideregrete_. Since the two potions had similar components, it was a likely conclusion that they would have similar physical properties.

_And it would probably smell like cinnamon while brewing._ The parchment quivered slightly in her hand as she remembered the verbal exchange with Snape earlier that night. She had asked him about the potion, and he had told her to do the essay. Her eyes widened in realization as she gripped the paper with both hands. This _was_ the potion. It had to be. He would not tell her what it was, but instead was requiring her to figure it out for herself.

_Holy Merlin!_ She stood up quickly, accidently knocking over her chair in the process.

Mattie jumped suddenly and cursed as her quill jerked across the page. She looked up, startled. "What's wrong?"

"Hmmm?" Hermione glanced at the girl and snapped back to reality. "Oh, sorry. Nothing's wrong - I just realized I need to check the library for my Potions essay."

The blonde raised her eyebrow and then shook her head as she tried to remove the unwanted ink before it completely soaked into the parchment.

Hermione quickly grabbed her book bag and started shoving in it her Potions book and writing material. She threw the bag over her shoulder and immediately set out down the staircase. She strode swiftly through the common room, barely noticing the several heads that turned in her direction.

"Where she off to?" Seamus asked with a gesture towards the closing portrait as his queen beheaded a pawn.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other and then said in unison, "The library!"

**X x x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus gave a small snort as he felt her mind kick into high gear. It was almost astonishing to experience the ferocity in which she attacked an intellectual problem. In his own mind, he briefly pictured her storming through the library aisles, ripping books from the shelves, and tossing aside the ones she did not need.

_Except that would not be an accurate depiction at all_, he mused. The girl held an absolute reverence for books. Her bookshelf at home had been nearly immaculate - every book properly shelved with only the minimal damage from heavy use. The only abuse of literature he had seen from her had been when she had taken her frustrations out on the stack of textbooks he had bought for her. Even then, however, she had quickly collected them from the floor, lovingly caressed them, and all but tucked them into bed.

Sighing, he balanced his quill on the ledge of the crystal inkwell and leaned back in his chair. It seemed that while she was aggressively researching, her brain seemed to scream the information across her conscience - and now it was doing the same to his. It was definitely not conducive for allowing him to do his own research. Instead, he crossed his arms, rested his head against the back of the chair, closed his eyes and listened to the mental processing of the young Gryffindor witch.

When he next opened his eyes, it was to find that her inner chatter had gone silent, the fire had died, and there was a rather painful crick in his neck. After turning his head several times to remove the tension, he glanced down at his lap where a fluffy mass of fur had curled itself into ball. Rolling his eyes, he shoved the cat from his lap and stood. He winced as he stretched, causing several vertebrae to crackle.

Crookshanks had managed to land on all four paws and now turned to stare at him indignantly. The feline arched his back and then audibly made his complaints known.

Snape sneered at the creature. "I don't recall inviting you here, so if you're expecting me to care, you are sadly mistaken. I suggest leaving on your own before I boot you out."

The ginger cat narrowed its eyes in consideration before flicking its tail and sauntering towards the door. He stared at the man expectantly until the door was waved open, and then quickly disappeared down the corridor.

The Potions master shook his head and strode back to his desk. Organizing his notes, he placed them inside the pages of the Neurology textbook he had been reading and then tucked the book beneath his arm. With a yawn and a glance at the clock, Severus decided it was more than past the time to retire to his bedroom.

As he slowly ascended the stairs, he offhandedly wondered how far Miss Granger had come on her assignment. He could not believe that he had managed to fall asleep during the ranting of her academic pursuits. He was by habit a light sleeper - it was a matter of self-preservation - and yet somehow he had managed a sleep deep enough to not notice when that mangy animal had leaped onto his lap.

_For that matter, how did that bloody creature even get in?_ His quarters, including his office, were always warded against unwanted visitors. Somehow, the cat had slunk his way past the multi-layered wards without setting off even one of them. _Another reason not to like cats. _

And that cat in particular was exceptionally wily. In fact, now that he thought about it - the half-Kneazle was rather similar to his owner. Besides the obvious hair parallel, they both were unusually intelligent and were quite cunning. It seemed as well that they both shared a compulsion for thievery. He had been quite certain that he had destroyed that stupid piece of parchment with his scribbling on it. He clearly remembered crumpling it up and volleying it towards the fire several days earlier. Apparently, though, the bandy-legged feline had been invading his personal space much earlier than he had realized.

Obviously, the girl was never meant to see it - and he felt quite idiotic for allowing himself to be compared to some uncertain teen. Though, he was somewhat surprised that, while she had been coming to conclusions about everything else, she had not figured out that bit of information. There was really no secret magical meaning behind it. Changing how he wrote his name could not erase the bond - it had been forged in his magical signature, not his legal one. It would probably take years - too many to even think about - to research a method of severing their connection without invoking death for one or both of them.

_If it would even be possible_. Old magic was tricky to work with and could become dangerous if handled incorrectly. Ink on parchment could not affect the connection - but it could elicit unwanted emotions. Cutting his mark into her flesh would forever be emblazoned in his mind. It did not matter what his signature looked like, for just the action of signing his name sparked the memory. He had decided to modify it, however, the moment Hermione had gone into the dressing room to view it for herself. He did not want her to think of the wounds every time she saw his signature - which, if they were to survive the war, would happen a great many times throughout her life. Furthermore, it bothered him that she would ever have to consider herself as his property. As it stood now, she would not share the mark with any contracts, deeds, or arrangements he may enter into in the future.

Reaching his bedroom door, he entered the room and set the textbook atop the small bookshelf beneath his window. He looked out at the moonlit lake for a few minutes before stripping out of his robes and heading towards his bathroom. He emerged several minutes later in his grey nightshirt and crossed over to his bed.

Scowling, he looked down at the furry ginger creature stretched out in the middle of the mattress. He considered grabbing it by the scruff of its neck and physically tossing it out, but quickly remembered how well that had worked in the Granger home. He still had the scar from that nightmarish encounter on the back of his hand.

Shaking his head, he grabbed hold of the corner of the comforter and glared at the feline. "Shove over."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Friday had come and gone without any major incident. Severus had noticed that Miss Granger had been avoiding using Dreamless Sleep during the week for fear of sleeping through her classes. It was a wise decision on her part, he thought, and he was pleased that she had seen fit to take a dose of it after she had completed her rounds on Friday night. She needed the sleep, and it left him free to enjoy a peaceful morning.

Or it would have, had he not had to attend the weekly Saturday morning staff meeting. As this was the case, however, he was sitting rather grumpily at the large table, impatiently tapping his fingers as he stared out the window.

"Knock it off, Severus," came the testy demand from the woman seated across the table from him.

"And just where is that good-natured Gryffindor charm this morning, Minerva?" he asked with a smirk.

McGonagall glared at him in return. "You're wearing on my nerves."

"Imbibe more than you should have?" he sneered.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Not nearly enough - but it seems eight o'clock on Saturday comes exponentially earlier every year."

Snape dipped his head in agreement and leaned back in his seat. He glanced at the head of the table and sighed in annoyance. "_He_ sets the god-awful time and then doesn't even have the decency to show up on time."

Minerva snorted in amusement and shifted her eyes to the Headmaster who had just strode into the room wearing his bright green and turquoise robes.

"Could he at least try not to look like such a ponce?" Snape whispered with a grimace, earning him another snort from the Gryffindor Head, and matching looks of contempt from Professors Vector and Sinistra. He returned their glances with an equally nasty expression of his own until they finally turned their attention away from him. He then smirked and folded his arms across his chest in quiet victory.

"Good morning, Severus," Remus said quietly as he pulled up the chair beside him.

Severus dropped his humored look and gave him a withering glare. "I was not aware that lycanthropy interferes with your ability to read a clock. They'll have to update the literature most assuredly."

Lupin took a deep breath, but managed a small smile. "Speaking of that, I just thought I'd remind you that the full moon is less than two weeks away."

"Of _that _I am quite aware," the potions master said coolly, focusing his eyes on the Headmaster. "I do not require reminders from you. Seeing as the actual wolfsbane takes two weeks to dry to the point where its toxicity is not concentrated enough to poison the drinker, it is in your good fortune that I do not."

The other man blushed mildly and similarly moved his gaze to the head of the table.

The meeting progressed rather smoothly for the next hour, which tended to happen when Dumbledore was allowed to ramble on uninterrupted. Stealthily glancing about the room, he saw the reason for this was that next to no one was actually paying attention. Minerva's head bobbed every so often, Sinistra's eyelids were drooping, and Pomona was flat out snoring.

_But of course the wolf is at rapt attention_, Severus sneered, glancing at Lupin from the corner of his eye. _Scrotty lap dog._

"Does anyone hold any other concerns?" The Headmaster finally asked.

_Five seconds to freedom_, he thought. _Five...Four...Three...Two..._

"I had a concern, Professor," Remus broke the silence, just as the Potions Master had begun to raise from his seat.

Snape sighed dramatically and flopped back into his seat. He sent a cold glare towards Minerva who was silently laughing.

Albus nodded towards the werewolf.

"It's about Miss Granger," Remus explained.

Severus stiffened slightly, and let his face become unreadable.

"It seems she's having a difficult time adjusting since the attempt on her family," the Defense instructor continued.

Several heads began nodding, and Minerva's concerned eyes quickly sought out Snape.

"I noticed that as well," Professor Babbling agreed. "She seemed rather withdrawn in class - didn't even answer a single question."

Septima Vector cleared her throat. "I've taken to grading Miss Granger's arithmancy calculations first, over the years- as a sort of check of my own answer key, you see - but what she turned into me yesterday was rather subpar. She is likely to have still received the highest mark in the class, mind you, but the work was not up to her usual standards."

Remus was nodding enthusiastically. "Exactly. I gave a skills test of sorts yesterday, just to see where the class stood on practical defense. Miss Granger was highly active in that Defense Association of theirs last year, and I know for a fact she is more than capable of producing the Patronus charm. Yesterday, however, she barely even managed a silvery mist."

Snape rolled his eyes and gave a small snort.

"Something you care to add, Severus?" Dumbledore queried, with a tilt of his head.

The Slytherin Head fixed him with a nasty look. "Only that I see no need to waste my time discussing _this_. It's pathetic to watch you all whinging about how your shining pupil has become just as dull as the rest of them. Though if you would take two seconds to pull the bloody cotton from your ears and listen to what you've actually said, perhaps you'd realize that your star has only dimmed her brightness only enough to not cause permanent blindness to those around her.

"I'm willing to predict that half of the students in your class failed the assignment, Septima, and yet you're griping that the highest score isn't as high as it could have been. Did she get one wrong? Two? Merlin, let me alert the _Prophet_ for you. Perhaps you should focus on the rest of the dunderheads who are struggling to keep their heads above water instead of the one who is swimming circles around them.

"And you, Remus. For Merlin's sake, you'd be hard-pressed to find seven people in this very room who could produce an adequate Patronus every day. How many years did it take you before you could produce yours? I happen to remember quite clearly how futile your attempts were at her age. Are you really that unbalanced about the fact that a 16-year-old girl can't master magic of that magnitude two days after leaving the infirmary?

"Unless, of course, I was misinformed about the girl suffering a turn of ill health. If that is the case, Headmaster, I will gladly zero out her marks for her absence in class, even if she did come to my office on her own time, looking to brew the potion she had missed." He let out a small sigh and crossed his arms. "I, for one, will be glad to teach an entire class period without her hand frantically waving about in my face. It's about time the girl learned some restraint, and it's bloody well time for the rest of her classmates to pull their heads out of their arses and answer the questions their own damn selves."

Tense silence settled upon the room, as several of the staff members looked away, feeling properly admonished. Albus sat back in his chair, looking upon the younger wizard with a twinkle in his eye, and McGonagall's lip was quivering as she fought desperately not to smile. Professors Babbling, Vector, and Sprout - who had been rather rudely woken up by Severus's loud criticism - began chatting quietly amongst themselves, agreeing that a recent illness could more than account for her lack of enthusiasm in class.

"A person's health does have a heavy impact on their ability to produce magic," Flitwick nodded at Severus, and then looked towards the Defense instructor. "The Patronus charm is very advanced for wizards of any age. It does require a great deal of energy, and would very much so be affected by her illness. I saw Miss Granger myself when she came to get her assignment from me, and she did appear rather out-of-sorts. I'm sure she'll be back to her usual standards in no time at all."

"I agree," Minerva nodded.

Remus, however, seemed undeterred. "I think there may be something else at play here. I've offered my services to her should she ever feel the need to talk, but I can't help thinking there must be something more we can do for her. She's been cut off from her family, and her friends may not be the most sympathetic listeners."

"Noticed that, have you?" Snape sneered.

"Oh, shut it," McGonagall hissed. "You do have a point, Remus. I am her Head of House, so perhaps I'll see if she's available for a chat some evening during this coming week. If there's anything amiss, I'm sure I'll find out."

Lupin smiled with relief, and Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "Excellent! If there are no further comments, I believe this meeting is adjourned."

Minerva was sporting a look that made Severus hang back while the rest of the staff filed out of the room. When it was just the two of them standing near the table, she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "We need to fix this."

Snape ran a hand across his face and slowly nodded. "I know."


	25. Temper, Temper

**A/N: Hi all! Sorry for the delay, but I've had the worst few weeks, and have been using the past week to catch up on sleep and unwind with my family. I found it a bit strange that two weeks ago, we were preparing for a blizzard, and today I was in a tank top and shorts, enjoying the 75 degree weather. Weird.**

** But anywho - here's the update! I apologize for any mistakes. I've had to transfer it between computers, and then uploading it here messed up all of my formatting, so I had to fix it, and then for some reason it started deleting words. In my stress, I may not have been the world's greatest proofreader.**

**Thank you all for your amazing reviews -****tennis14321432, vampirela69, JordanGoombette, woodshark, Stacy Vorosco, hnwhitlock2000, TakumaAngel, Angelwells, Lil Tine, jforston, ineverdothis, , KittyPimms, La muta larmo, sharNZ, HPFanGirl01, Startled Boris, Petite Mule, Inez Stringos, DedicatedReader, Lover of Fantasy, silverose29, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Odile1001, BlooDsucKkerR69, Lyra Lupin, early1991, Mel, callalily32, melonka, Slinkiee, Stephanie S, memorieslost05, cypris88, Sev01, SemiCharmed, sezoa1, becknox71270, AllyZ, Mrs SeverusSnape603, Tilly, extassy, and Jinx452! **

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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>  
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**Chapter 25**

It was well past breakfast by the time Hermione awoke on Saturday morning. The room had been empty when she ventured out from the comfort of her bed, and now, as she stepped out of the bathroom freshly showered and dressed, she still found her roommates to be among the missing. She quickly surmised they must be out enjoying their free day.

She winced as her stomach loudly rumbled. Glancing at the clock, she realized she had a good two hours before lunch would be served in the Great Hall. She let out a small puff of air, wondering if it would be possible to sneak down to the kitchens. She was not popular there, by any means, thanks to her hopeless attempts at house elf reform, but perhaps she could convince Harry or Ron to accompany her.

Hermione sighed, realizing she had been rather short with them the past few days. A small voice at the back of her head reminded her of how poorly Harry had treated Ron and her after Cedric Diggory's death, and it tried to argue that it was only fair he get a small dosage of his own medicine. The rest of her quickly dispelled that notion, however. It was not their fault that she was not fully ready for the steady onslaught of the year, and it was not their fault that she could not tell them about her situation. It was not fair to push them away, especially when she was the one that had been desperately wishing for their company.

Steeling her resolve, she decided to venture down to the common room to see if they were there. A minute and a half later, a large smile broke out on her face as she witnessed the two of them chatting animatedly at one of the tables. Ron's face was bright, and he was gesturing wildly with his hands while Harry snickered and shook his head. She grimaced internally, realizing they must be discussing Quidditch, but then quickly shook her head. She would welcome a lengthy conversation on the subject with open arms if it would distract her from other thoughts.

"Morning, Hermione!" Harry called out, catching sight of her. Ron snapped his head up immediately, and then blushed slightly with the knowledge that she had seen him do it.

Fighting to quell her rising apprehension, she forced a smile and quickly made her way over to join them.

"We saved you some food," Ron mumbled, "since you weren't at breakfast. Thought you might be hungry."

Her eyes lit up in honest anticipation as he produced a plate with some buttered toast and sausage links. "Thank you, Ron! I'm positively starving actually."

"You're welcome," he answered sheepishly, turning another shade of pink.

Hermione ignored him and set in upon the plate in front of her. When a few minutes passed in strange silence, she set down a half-eaten piece of toast and glanced between the two boys. "So - what's new?"

Harry winced slightly at the realization he had been staring. "Erm, nothing much."

Ron tilted his head. "Did we tell you Harry was named Quidditch captain?"

"Really?" She smiled widely, turning to look at the dark-haired boy. "That's wonderful, Harry!"

He gave a weak smile and shrugged. "Yeah, it is."

"But?"

"But," Harry sighed, "it's going to be exhausting just trying to organize try-outs. We've lost so many players - Katie and I are the only ones left who have actually played any matches."

He looked around the common room and gave a slight shudder. "It's going to be an absolute nightmare."

"I'm gonna try out for Keeper again," Ron announced proudly, puffing out his chest. "I did some practicing this summer."

Hermione noticed the small crinkling at the corner of Harry's eyes as the redhead made his pronouncement. Harry was worried about having Ron on the team, and she knew he was too polite to say anything to him about it.

"Good for you, Ron!" She flashed him a quick smile and then dropped her eyes back to her food. "When are you holding try-outs?"

"I was thinking of starting the week after next," Harry answered. "That way we have a solid month and a half of practice as an actual team."

She nodded. "Makes sense."

"I'm gonna put up sign-up sheets this week," he continued. "Moths to a flame, it'll be."

Hermione snickered and nodded. "Well, if it makes it any better, my name won't be on the list."

Harry grinned and looked at her. "Thank goodness for that. I won't have to find a delicate way to say you're a horrible flyer."

"Oi!" Ron interrupted, kicking Harry beneath the table. "You don't need to insult her."

"It's alright," she laughed, touching Ron's arm. "Honestly. I know how horrid I am on a broom. I hate flying."

"Oh, right," he mumbled, glancing down at her hand and then shooting a glare towards their friend.

Hermione quickly removed her hand, and slipped it into her lap. Immediately she began looking for a change of topic. "Did you finish your Potions essay yet?"

"No," Harry groaned. "Have you?"

"Not quite yet," she shook her head. "I have finished all the research on my ingredients, though."

"Of course you have," he smirked. "I haven't even started yet."

_Of course you haven't. _Hermione rolled her eyes. "You do realize it's due on Monday, don't you? You can't just make up stuff like you do for Divination."

"I know, I know," Harry grimaced. "I was going to work on it today."

"Well, if the two of you are gonna waste a perfectly good Saturday on Potions, I'm going to find something better to do," Ron said, stretching lazily and standing up from his chair.

"Don't _you _have homework to do?" She looked at him pointedly.

"Good as new, isn't she?" Ron chuckled, glancing at Harry. He then turned back to Hermione and shrugged. "I'll do it tomorrow night. It's just one of those dream analysis things."

"Meaning you're going to fabricate it all," she sighed.

The redhead grinned and nodded. "Ginny, Seamus, and Dean went out to get some flying practice in. I think I'll join 'em."

Harry let out a deep breath as soon as Ron had disappeared up the stairs to retrieve his broom.

"He might surprise you, you know," Hermione shrugged. "His whole family - minus Percy, of course, and I don't know about his mum - have been on the team. He's played the sport longer than you've even _known _about it. Plus, he just said he spent the summer practicing."

"Yeah, I know," he nodded slowly. "Chaser or Beater, I could see him as - but Keeper?"

"He was going to be Keeper last year," she reminded him. "Before Umbridge sacked the whole team, of course. You seemed fine with it then."

Harry grimaced. "I know I was, but…it's just that…well –"

"You mean, it's just that last year it was Angelina's team, and this year it's yours," she stated coolly. "It was alright for Angelina to have to put up with a mediocre Keeper, but not you."

"When you put it that way," Harry winced, "I sound like a total arse."

Hermione remained silent, but pointedly raised an eyebrow.

He blew out a long breath and shook his head. "I just want the team to do well, especially after having been sacked last year. If only to show up Slytherin, I'd really like to have a top-notch team. Ron and I are best friends, Hermione – but I just don't know if he's the best Keeper."

"Then work on him," she suggested. "You have two weeks until try-outs."

"See you guys later!" Ron called out, crossing through the room towards the portrait and carrying his broom.

"You're right," Harry nodded, rising from the table. "Maybe I should."

"Not now!" she called out as he started walking towards the staircase into the male dormitory. "You have to get your essay done. You do realize as Quidditch captain you have to maintain a certain academic standing, don't you? That doesn't exclude Potions."

The boy flashed her a grin and laughed. "I was just going to get my Potions materials, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Sorry," Hermione blushed. She waited a few seconds before standing up and making her way to the other dormitory entrance to get her own bookbag.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

_The Dong Qui root, of the Angelica _genus, is indigenous to China is more commonly referred to as 'female ginseng.' Its properties are such that it can be used in potions to promote analgesic, anti-inflammatory, antispasmodic, and sedative effects. The herb is rich in coumarin derivatives, which are helpful in relieving muscle tension, and the high Vitamin E content aids in keeping skin, internal organs, and tissues - particularly those of the female reproductive system - moist, well-lubricated, and flexible.__

Hermione flushed as she watched the ink dry on the latest paragraph of her essay. Never before had she been so embarrassed to complete an assignment. This was supposed to be Potions, not a health class. Taking a deep breath, she dipped the end of her quill back in her inkpot and continued writing.

_Motherwort Herb has traditionally been used in the magical protection of women and children. Throughout the ages, healers have used tinctures of the herb as a tonic for the uterus and other reproductive organs. More recent discoveries with Motherwort, however, have highlighted the plants ability to soothe and strengthen the entire nervous system. Similarly, Alchemilla vulgaris_ - or Lady's Mantle - is used in medical-based potions to treat inflammation or damage to the female reproductive system, and can alleviate uterine discomfort.__

"Hey, Hermione?" Harry interrupted.

"Hmm?" she asked without pausing in her work.

The boy rubbed a hand behind his head, frowning at a book open in his lap. "Have you ever heard of windflower? I've been looking, but all I can find is wine-flower and wingflower. Do you think, perhaps, he could have made a mistake in writing it out?"

She snorted and shook her head. "I highly doubt it. Perhaps there's another name for it."

"And how exactly am I supposed to know what it is?" he snapped.

Hermione sighed and set down her quill. She bent down and picked up her apprentice-level text and pushed it towards him. "There's an appendix with alternate names in the back. It's rather extensive. You could start there."

She ignored his mumbled expression of half-hearted gratitude and glanced back at her list of ingredients, checking off the ones she had already described.

Avena sativa_ is more commonly referred to as Oatstraw. On its own, the herb can be used for many physical and nervous ailments, including depression. Oatstraw can be used in potions to prevent or relieve spasms, to soothe inflamed or damaged tissues and mucous membranes, or to strengthen the nervous system's ability to function properly. This herb is commonly found in love potions, as when it is used in combination with certain ingredients - including lemon balm, cubeb berries, cherry bark, or red clover flowers - it can establish a pleasurable experience for the drinker. _

She blew out a deep breath. Lemon balm, cubeb berries and red clover were all utilized in the _Olivideregrete _potion, but this particular brew had not called for any of them. Theoretically, then, the potion he had developed for her was not a love potion.

_Well, that's something, _she thought as she looked over the rest of her notes.

Rubus idaeus_ is the red raspberry plant. Its leaves contain fragrine, which aids in strengthening the pelvic region. The high calcium content of the leaves can also be used to relieve pain and nourish the nervous system._

"Found it!" Harry called out, pointing at a page in her textbook. "The wood anemone, also known as crowfoot or windflower, calls upon elemental air. The mature flower is a frequent nesting locale for the Dandran Faerie colonies of Northern Europe. Poisonous, but can charm against fever, and is often used in death rituals.

"This is ridiculous. Either I want to kill somebody, cool them down, or honor them in death." He sighed. "Not to mention displacing a bunch of disgruntled faeries."

Hermione snickered and rolled her eyes. "He does say to theorize possible purposes, so he probably isn't grading you on whether or not you get the correct answer."

"It's me, Hermione, and it's Snape," Harry said quietly. "Of course he'll grade me on whether or not I get the right explanation."

"I suppose you do have a point," she shrugged. "Look at your other ingredients then."

The boy grunted as he glanced over his list. "Well, there's Valerian root. That's a sedative, right?"

She nodded, reading through her own description of the ingredient. "It has sedative properties, yes, but can also be used for internal pain or muscle tension."

"You wouldn't use a tranquilizer on somebody who's already dead," Harry thought aloud. "So, obviously, that option's out."

"Obviously," she agreed, with a raise of her eyebrow.

Harry snorted and shook his head. "Merlin, minus the nasty sneer, you sound just like him."

Hermione began to giggle, and then off-handedly wondered if Snape was listening in on this conversation, and if he would be angered over it. She sobered immediately at the thought and dropped her gaze back to the table.

"You alright?" he asked, concerned at her sudden change in emotion.

"Erm, yeah," she nodded, rubbing her forehead. "I just thought of something, that's all."

"Oh," he responded quietly. "So have you figured yours out yet?"

Hermione glanced down at her notes. Kava Kava had anesthetic properties and could be used for relaxing. Bittersweet was used for protection and healing, as was Cinnamon Bark.

"Well," she began cautiously. "It seems to have some healing properties - for the nervous system especially - but I think it could be used as sort of a directed anesthetic."

"Really?" Harry asked, reaching excitedly for the scroll with her given list of ingredients.

Hermione hurriedly began collecting all of her notes and storing them away in her bag. She really did not want to explain anything regarding the actual contents of her essay. It was bad enough to think of Snape spending time researching the female reproductive system - she did not need the added embarrassment of having Harry knowing it, too.

"Bat nut?" he smirked. "What the bloody hell is that? It's not actually a bat's...erm..._you know?"_

"Testicle, you mean?" she laughed nervously. "Absolutely not! It's the seed pod of an Asian plant. It just looks like a flying bat. It's also called the Devil Pod. Merlin, Harry."

The boy had turned completely red, and he dropped his gaze back to the paper. "So what's it do?"

"It gives strong protection from evil," she answered.

"Like against dark magic, you mean?"

Hermione nodded, relieved that he had picked one of the ingredients with the least awkward of purposes. "I think it's supposed to keep the drinker from feeling certain effects of a dark curse. Or minimize them, at least."

"Brilliant," he muttered, returning the parchment to her.

"I suppose it -"

Hermione's response trailed off as both friends were distracted by the sudden arrival of an irate Ginny Weasley.

"_WHERE_ IS HE?" she shouted angrily, catching the full attention of the handful of people lounging about the common room.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"Ron!" she responded. "Where is he?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she noted the girl's tear-stained cheeks. "What happened, Ginny?"

"He...he...I was...Dean and I...and he...UGH!" The red-faced redhead ran a hand through her hair as she began to pace. Suddenly she shook her head and bolted for the girls' dormitory.

Sighing, Hermione grabbed her bag and stood from her chair.

"I'll go talk to her," she muttered, noting the concern in Harry's eyes. "If you're not going to work on your essay, perhaps you can go find Ron. Obviously, he's done something to upset her."

She heard Harry give a muted response before she made her way up the girls' staircase. When she pushed open the door to the Prefects' room, she was greeted by the sight of Ginny flung across her bed, sobbing noisily. Hermione rolled her eyes, choosing to drop her bag beside her desk before venturing to take a seat next to the crying girl.

"So," she stated plainly, "You and Dean were snogging, and Ron caught you. Is that about the size of it?"

Ginny nodded slowly against her pillow. "He was so angry - completely went berserk, shouting at me. Then Dean tried to step in to defend me, and Ron lost it. He punched Dean, and Dean hit him back, and then it all went to hell. Seamus finally came and helped me pull them apart, and then he kept Ron away from us while I took Dean to the Hospital Wing."

"Is Dean alright?" Hermione asked, pushing a strand of hair back from Ginny's face and tucking it behind the girl's ear.

"He will be. Ron broke his nose and fractured his jaw, Madam Pomfrey said." The girl took in an unsteady breath and squeezed out a few more tears. "She's checking him over for any other injuries. I was going to stay with him, but McGonagall sent me back here."

_Professor McGonagall, _the older girl mentally corrected, before lying down beside the redhead. Ginny rolled over and buried her head against Hermione's shoulder. "I'm going to kill him, Hermione. I swear I'm going to."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed the girl's arm. "No, you're not. Though I don't doubt you could, you're not going to kill him because deep down you know he did what he did because he loves you. You're his only sister, and he just wants to protect you."

"He's a complete idiot," came the muffled response.

"_Of course _he is," Hermione laughed, squeezing Ginny to her side. "He's a_ _boy. __All boys are stupid."

Ginny let out a snort and then began to giggle uncontrollably. "You're completely right."

"Aren't I always?"

The younger girl laughed again and pushed up into a seated position. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks glistened with the remnants of tears, but her eyes were sparkling as she tried desperately to manipulate her face into a sneer.

"Insufferable know-it-all," she said in a deep mocking tone, before immediately erupting back into giggles.

Hermione smiled, but swallowed a large lump at the obvious impression of Snape. _Professor Snape, _she corrected herself as a guilt suddenly pressed against her.

Ginny flopped back against the mattress and wrapped herself around the other girl. "I'm glad you're back, Hermione. If it weren't for you, I'd have probably beaten him to a bloody pulp. I still might, but not if you're with me."

The older girl stiffened, but still patted Ginny on the shoulder. "Guess I just have practice defusing the infamous Weasley temper."

"You _are _pretty good with Ron. Too bad you weren't with him earlier. You could've stopped it." The redhead sighed. "If only you and he were attached at the hip or something."

Hermione grimaced and uncomfortably pulled away from the girl. She made a show of checking her watch and then folded her arms against her chest. "Well, lunch is about ready to be served. Are you hungry?"

Ginny nodded emphatically and climbed off the bed. "Famished, actually."

"Another Weasley trait?"

"Shut it, you."

Hermione laughed quietly and grabbed hold of the other girl's hand. "I'm just teasing. Crying really does take it out of you."

"As does snogging," Ginny added with a mischievous smile.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione sighed, pulling open the door.

"Something the great Hermione Granger doesn't know?" The younger girl dropped her jaw in mock surprise. "We could fix that, you know. I'm sure I know a certain idiot who would be up for the challenge. Maybe then he'd back off of _my_ lovelife."

Hermione swallowed heavily, and then let out a shuddering sigh. "Shall we stop by the infirmary first and check up on Dean?"

"Yes, please."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As Hermione exchanged an exasperated glance with Harry during breakfast on Monday, she gave a silent word of gratitude that the weekend had passed without further major incident.

_Comparatively speaking, at any rate. _Sunday morning's meal had been punctuated – as expected – by Molly Weasley's screeching chastisements after the bedraggled family bird deposited a red-enveloped Howler in each of her children's servings of oatmeal. Ron and Ginny both had then left the Great Hall in shame, and neither had yet to share a word with the other since the initial incident.

Gryffindor Tower as a whole had been dealing with the fallout of that weekend. Ron had returned to the common room after supper that night, clutching his broom with white knuckles, after having received a thorough dressing-down from Professor McGonagall. Though the exact total had not been confirmed, it had been rumored that he had lost a solid fifty points for his actions, and had received a week's worth of detention with Filch. McGonagall, it seemed, had been rather put out about such untoward behavior from two of her prefects, and had suspended Ron's position for a month's time. Ginny, on the other hand, had been lucky enough to only receive a stern lecture on the impeccable conduct expected of a Hogwarts prefect and a warning to keep her romantic liaisons out of the public eye.

Not only were things tense between the Weasley siblings, but also amongst the sixth-year Gryffindor boys. Seamus and Dean were both out of sorts with Ron, leaving Neville and Harry feeling rather awkward in their sleeping quarters. At least Ron was sleeping in the prefects' room – otherwise, the tension in the room would have been astronomical. As it was, Ron spent little time around the common room as many of the Gryffindors were rather sore about losing so many points so soon in the year – from their own Head of House to boot.

And now, as Ron moodily slouched in the seat next to her and glared daggers down the table at the tall boy sitting by his sister, Hermione had to struggle to keep from rolling her eyes.

_'So what if your sister has another boyfriend!' _she wanted to stand up and scream. __'It's not like Dean killed your parents and then tortured you in front of all his friends! Or branded her with his name so she has no choice but to be with him! At least __she__ _can choose who she snogs, so grow up! Some of us have real problems.'___

She stifled a small snort and shook her head as she pictured the looks her imagined outburst would receive. Horror, shock, and pity by the boatload, undoubtedly. She sighed deeply and pushed her eggs around with her fork. It would be worth it for the first few seconds, just to get everyone to shut up about their insignificant issues, but it would quickly spell disaster. Considering Snape had instructed her not to say anything about it, doing so would probably result in an episode of intense pain and violent thrashing on the floor of the Great Hall. Suddenly, the scene playing out in her head did not seem so desirable.

Having lost her appetite, Hermione dropped her fork on her plate and leaned her elbows on the table. She chewed on her lip as she glanced first at Harry, then Neville, Ginny, and finally back at Ron. They all knew what nightmares lay in store for them. They all had real problems that were beyond their control. She let out a deep breath, realizing that their petty disputes were distractors – things that were actually in their power to do something about.

Worrying about Quidditch, looking for secret places to have a quick snog, fighting over your sister's virtue, complaining about homework, or starting trivial arguments – these were all things normal teenagers did. The world they were living in was not going to let them be normal, but they could pretend, at least. If they wanted to forget, for the time being, that their loved ones had been killed, or that their parents could not even say their own names, or that they had been possessed by Voldemort, or that they had battled with Death Eaters – then so be it.

The problems they chose to focus on were trifling and inconsequential, but even Hermione could appreciate that they kept her from thinking about her own situation. They all tended to look to her as the stabling force, and so that was what she needed to be – or at least pretend to be.

For now, though, she desperately needed a few minutes' break from the chaos. The Potions lecture started in a half hour, and she knew she would need to clear her head before that. Pushing up from the table, she threw her bag over her shoulder and made her way to find someplace quiet.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"What are _you _looking at,_ mudblood?"_

Severus internally grimaced as he heard Draco sneering from the hallway. Yanking open the classroom door, he appeared just in time to see a small flame flicker in Hermione Granger's eyes and then die away a second later. Potter stood beside the girl – and had tried to step protectively in front of her – but the firm grip she had on the boy's sleeve prevented him from rising to the occasion.

"In!" he barked, glaring as the gathered students jumped and began filing past him. He felt a small trickle of relief spread through him as he noticed the girl remained impassive as Draco purposefully pushed in front of her, and he was even more impressed that she managed to keep Potter's temper in check as well. She kept her hold on his arm throughout the entire encounter and all but forced him towards their bench.

Clenching his teeth, Snape threw the door shut and strode towards the front of the room. "Your essays shall be on my desk in the next thirty seconds or they will be considered late, and you shall receive a zero."

The edges of his mouth turned upwards in a dreadful smirk as everyone fearfully rushed to the front of the room. Everyone, except for Granger, that was. She was standing by her table, white-faced, after Potter had snatched her essay from her hand and had gone to turn it in with his. Upon catching Snape staring at her with a raised eyebrow, her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and she immediately dropped into her seat.

When exactly twenty-seven seconds had passed, he bellowed an order for everyone to sit and be silent. As he began his lecture, he periodically found his eyes wandering in Miss Granger's direction. To everyone else, it appeared she was listening to him with rapt attention, but he knew different. Her gaze intermittently darted to where Draco sat, and he could hear her trying to figure out whether or not the boy knew of what had transpired at the Death Eater's gathering three weeks prior.

Severus could not find fault with her over that, as he had quite honestly been wondering the same exact thing. He knew Draco had been forced to take the Dark Mark as punishment for his father's failure at the Ministry, yet it was rather unlikely the boy had been summoned to witness the binding. It was still possible that either Lucius or Bellatrix had enlightened him as to what had taken place, but the lack of insinuating comments stemming from the blonde Slytherin made Snape think otherwise.

But that was not important to him at the moment. What was important, on the other hand, was getting Miss Granger back to her usual hand-waving, book-regurgitating self. So far, he noticed, she was off to a miserable start. The lecture period was already halfway through, yet she had not managed to scribble down a single note, and he knew for a fact that she had only been listening to him for a handful of minutes.

He paused dramatically in his oration, which effectively drew renewed attention from the majority of the students. By now, they knew that it would mean one of two things – he either was ready to launch into a verbal evisceration of someone, or he was about to ask a question, which could also result in a scathing remark. Fortunately, the latter was true of this occasion. Keeping an eye trained on Hermione, he folded his arms and sighed.

"Is anyone in here capable of telling me why the leaves of the Taragomine plant are utilized, and not the stalks or roots?"

A few terse seconds ticked by while the students nervously shifted in their seats, desperately hoping not to be called upon to answer. Severus felt a small bit of triumph when he noticed that even Draco was purposely avoiding his gaze. Though, as the seconds continued to waste away, triumph soon melted into sheer impatience.

Miss Granger sat perfectly still, chewing on her lip and staring pointedly at the table top. Potter was beginning to send her a questioning look, as if beseeching her to answer lest he receive another round of ridicule. It was tempting, of course, but that would have to wait for another day. Right now, Hermione needed to answer the question – and if she was not going to do it herself, he would have to do it for her.

Severus focused all of his attention on her small form, willing her hand to rise. When it did – causing her face to explode into surprised confusion – he gave a satisfied smirk.

"Miss Granger," he drawled, "Surprise, surprise. Please do bestow your infinite wisdom upon the rest of us."

Her eyes bitterly narrowed, and she swallowed down a large gulp of air. When her mouth opened and words began tumbling out, he noticed that her eyes had widened even further with shock.

"Actually_, _sir," her voice corrected with its usual confidence, "it is the Taragomine stalk and roots that are utilized_,_ not __the leaves__."__

Snape allowed his eyebrows to rise in mock surprise. "And pray tell why that is – besides you having read it in the list for tomorrow's potion."

A few snickers erupted from the Slytherin students, while those from the other houses grimaced at the realization they should have known the answer.

"Because,_ sir," _she said, her steady voice conflicting wildly with the wondered hurt glittering in her eyes, "the leaves are commonly used by the Tarago fly as a place to lay their eggs. Tarago fly eggs are covered in a resin that is dangerously toxic to humans. As most Taragomine leaves are tainted by this resin, using them would render the potion's true effect useless, and would instead kill the drinker. Obviously, that would defeat the entire purpose of brewing an invigorating draught in the first place."

Severus feigned a disappointed look and shrugged. "Five points from Gryffindor for your tone, Miss Granger. I asked for a simple explanation, not for you to supply us with your additional commentary."

He took in a deep breath as he watched her jaw drop and her face flush with anger. When Draco outright laughed, Snape gracefully turned to face the blonde.

"Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you could enlighten us as to the purpose of the Taragomine plant?"

When the boy spit out an adequate response, he awarded five points to his own house and then continued on with his lecture. By the time the end of the period had arrived, he had given an additional ten points to Slytherin, another ten to Ravenclaw, and had stripped fifteen more from Gryffindor. Ten of those points had been lost by Potter, who had tried to argue that Hermione should have actually received points for delivering the correct responses when everyone else had.

Glancing at the clock, Snape saw the minute hand strike the twelve, and immediately dismissed the class. He moved around to his desk, but paused when he noted the downtrodden look on the Gryffindor witch's face.

"Miss Granger, a word," he added, taking a seat and fixing a cold glare on Potter who suddenly seemed intent on staying behind.

The girl let out a shuddering sigh, but gestured for the bespectacled boy to leave. When the door clicked shut behind Potter, and the room was empty save for the two of them, Hermione crossed her arms against her chest and stared at him indignantly.

"My apologies, Miss Granger," Severus muttered. "It was not my purpose to offend you."

"_Not _your purpose to __offend __me?" she hissed, standing from her bench. "That was all you, wasn't it? ___You ___forced those words out of my mouth, and then___ _you ___punished me for it! Five points for my tone, and five points for patronizing a fellow student? _____You ___were the one who set my tone! ______You ___were the one who corrected Macmillan in that manner!______"____________

He closed his eyes briefly and held up a hand. "If you would allow me to explain—"

"With your own mouth?" she sneered. "Or are you going to force me to explain it to myself?"

Snape's eyes flew open and his nostrils flared as he bellowed, "Would you just listen, Granger?"

Hermione slammed her mouth shut and glared, wrapping her arms around her midsection.

"Now then," he began, cooling his voice. "I told you earlier that we needed to behave as we normally do – that includes my cutting you down in class. While I do not particularly enjoy it, it is what is expected of me – from your house as well as my own."

_"No one expected you to treat me like a bloody puppet!" _she thought, narrowing her eyes.

"While that is true," he admitted, "They do, however, expect you to know the answer to every question asked in class and for you to flaunt that knowledge about as you always do. If you are under the impression that the students and staff have not noticed your lack of participation in class, Miss Granger, you are sadly mistaken. Some of the more troublesome ones have taken it upon themselves to _sniff _out the cause of your distress – and that is exactly the kind of attention that we do not need."

She let out a large sigh and sank back against the nearest lab table. "Maybe I'm just sick of being the center of attention! Did no one bother to think of that?"

Severus raised his eyebrows and studied her for a few seconds. "Seeing as you have always enjoyed your place in the spotlight, your current behavior is a rather prominent deviation from normal. Several people believe there must be something responsible for your change in personality."

"Well, there is!" She groaned and gestured between the two of them. "_This_ is what being the center of attention has gotten me so far_!"_

He nodded his head and sighed. "As understandable as that is, the fact remains that you are drawing more attention by remaining silent than you would if you flung your hand up in the air every five seconds."

"I just have to _pretend _to be normal, is what you're saying," she mumbled quietly. A moment of silence passed before she met his eyes. "And what if I don't? What if I don't start participating in class? Are you going to marionette my arm waving in every class?"

Snape snorted softly and glanced down at his desk. "Perhaps. If that is what is needed."

"This isn't the first time you did this, is it?" she pressed, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You've put words in my mouth before, haven't you?"

He swallowed slowly and gave a brief dip of his head.

"When I first ran into Remus, you answered for me, didn't you? And then again at the Welcoming Feast."

His nod was almost imperceptible.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, not knowing if she should be angry or feel slightly relieved that he had been the one answering the difficult questions. One thought, though, was cemented firmly in her mind – Snape could not be expected to handle all of her interactions for her. For one thing, it was creepy and violating, but it was also too much to ask of him. She needed to step up and take some of the authority back in her own life.

_But that was perhaps the scariest thought of them all. _She exhaled morosely. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm not good at acting – or lying, for that matter."

Severus raised one brow and tilted his head. "And yet somehow you managed to lure that blasted High Inquisitor out into the Forbidden Forrest on a quest to find a secret weapon that didn't even exist. If you were as horrible an actor as you claim, she would not have gone tearing out there without even so much as a doubting glance in your direction."

"But that," she argued. "_That _was different! I_ had _to do something! She was torturing Harry – it was a life or death type of situation, sir._"_

"Exactly," he stated emphatically.

Hermione blinked her eyes in slight surprise.

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. "What type of situation do you think we currently find ourselves in, Miss Granger, if not a matter of life or death?"

"You're right," she muttered a few seconds later, dropping her arms to her sides in defeat. "I'll try harder from now on."

Nodding, he flicked his eyes towards the clock. "You can start by not being late to Charms, and make sure Potter goes with you. I don't care for him loitering in my hallway."

Hermione gave a disbelieving smirk, grabbed her bag and headed towards the door.

"Oh, and Miss Granger," he called out in a bored voice.

"Yes?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Ten points to Gryffindor."

She opened her mouth in honest surprise, but then narrowed her eyes at him a few seconds later. "Only ten? Gryffindor lost twenty."

"Mr. Potter would do well to remember who his superiors are," he answered icily. "Ten points for talking back to a teacher is more than fair."

"And what about the points I should have been awarded for answering the questions correctly?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Snape gave her a haughty smirk. "Did not we just establish that _I _was the one who answered those questions? I don't give out points for claiming other's intellectual property as your own, Granger. Now, get moving_."_

Hermione rolled her eyes and slipped out into the hallway, where Harry was leaning up against the wall.

"You alright?" he asked, nervously glancing at the door. When she nodded, he raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about? And don't even try to tell me that _he _was just asking after your health."

"Of course he wasn't, Harry," she snorted as they began their journey up the stairs. "He deemed it necessary to point out that I hadn't answered anyone else's questions in class last week."

"And he was disappointed that it was in his class that you made your glorious comeback?" Harry questioned.

"Something like that," she shrugged. "He gave me this long-winded speech about how I shouldn't draw attention to myself."

He shook his head and snickered. "What a git."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x X**

As Severus gathered the sixth-years' essays into a manageable pile and transported them into his office, he smirked and shook his head. Glancing down at the ginger cat curled up on the chair behind his desk, he quickly met the feline's pale green eyes.

"She's a much better liar than she lets on," he sneered.

Crookshanks blinked his eyes knowingly in response.

Snape snorted amusedly and then spun back to his classroom to prepare for the incoming class of snot-nosed first years.


	26. Silence and Sabotage

**A/N: Thanks for all the encouraging reviews! woodshark, hnwhitlock2000, Hazel08, JordanGoombette, earley1991, silverose29, Stacy Vorosco, HPFanGirl01, Startled Boris, Inez Stringos, Wild-eyes99, Petite Mule, Lover of Fantasy, WaterbendingBabe, moviemeister76, vampirela69, Katzenpfote, MoonGirl1840, CarnivorousOak, SK7786 -_thanks for the defense!_ - melonka, Angelwells, Sev01, joanna-archer, Mel, DedicatedReader, Marble Meadow, Hey, Dontcallmesweetie, Mrs Shelley Black, memorieslost05, and KittyPimms...you are all awesome!**

**I didn't get quite as far as I meant to in this chapter, but it just kept writing itself... damn creative musings.  
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**Chapter 26**

Severus sighed as he took a sip of his coffee during breakfast. He raked his eyes over each inhabitant of the Slytherin table, looking for any outward signs of disturbance, treachery, or horse-play. Upon seeing none, he allowed himself a satisfied smirk and then glanced challengingly towards Minerva.

The elder witch sat stiffly, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes as she scrutinized her own house table. He followed her gaze towards a group of fourth-year boys who were conspicuously glancing about the Great Hall and passing something beneath the table. He shook his head at the blatantly obvious behavior of the Gryffindor students, and then narrowed his stare in an attempt to discern the nature of the contraband.

Almost immediately he became aware of a female voice in his head expressing the same concern. His eyes travelled instantly towards Miss Granger's form rising from the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed McGonagall relaxing somewhat as the girl confidently strode towards the offending students. His interest suddenly piqued, he tuned out the conversation Lupin and Vector were holding around him and focused most of his attention on the information coming in through the connection with the girl.

"_Good morning, Henry,"_ she said cheerfully, squishing herself between two of the boys. _"Michael, Reynold, Parker."_

The four boys mumbled greetings in return, and Snape could see two of them drop their gaze to the table.

_"It's such a lovely day, isn't it_?" she asked in a sugary sweet voice that he could not quite believe belonged to her. When the boys answered in the affirmative, her tone suddenly became much harsher. _"I would hate to have to ruin it by taking away points, but I will do what I must if you don't hand over whatever Weasley product you're hiding under there."_

Eyes widened as the boys scrambled to supply a defense.

_"Perhaps you misunderstood,"_ Hermione smiled with a glance to the rest of the table, who appeared blissfully unaware of the true nature of the interaction. _"I wasn't offering you a choice to _not_ turn it in. What I am offering is the chance to turn it in without further consequence. However, should you opt against this, I will forcibly remove it from you, strip you each of five points, report you to Professor McGonagall, and then send a do-not-sell order with the four of your names to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. And believe you me, they will comply."_

Severus snickered as he watched their jaws dropped and then as they quickly scrambled to produce a small assortment of miniature Whiz-bangs on top of the table.

Hermione smiled and banished the items to the large pocket of her robe. She stood up from the bench and sighed. _"Thank you, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your day."_

A proud sniffing noise drew Snape's attention back to the Head Table. Minerva was leaning back in her seat looking visibly pleased.

"I heard you had to sack one of your prefects," he quietly taunted, interrupting the witch's good mood. "I must say I was _most_ surprised to hear of it."

Minerva snapped her head in his direction, glaring at him over Lupin's lowered head. "I have not _sacked_ anyone, Severus – merely suspended his duties temporarily."

"Only a matter of time," he smirked, taking another sip of coffee.

The witch coldly shook her head. "Well at least _I_ hold my prefects to a certain code of conduct."

Snape understood perfectly as she gestured with her eyes in the direction of Draco Malfoy, but feigned ignorance and returned his attention to the rest of the Great Hall. After checking once again on his house table, he found his eyes drifting back towards the Gryffindor side. With a soft sigh, he subtly scrutinized Miss Granger as she sat amongst her friends.

She was sitting perfectly still, a neutral expression on her face as she gracefully picked up a piece of toast. To the rest of the world, she looked calm, but the inside of her head was mess. She was foremost concerned with keeping up appearances, evidenced by the fact she kept replaying yesterday's Potions lesson through her mind. She had taken his message to heart, fully participating in the remainder of her classes that day, if only to avoid the further trauma of having him control her again. She was not nearly as accepting of his treatment of her as she had pretended to be in front of him, and Severus knew he had once again damaged her trust in him. However, she seemed resolved to struggle on in spite of it.

The corners of his eyes pinched as he realized he should not know all of this. Hermione deserved the privacy of her own mind, and he wished he could give her that. Not only for her benefit, but for his as well. He currently knew way too much about the goings-on of Gryffindor Tower, and was now painfully aware of just how much everyone expected of the girl.

Not only was she preoccupied by their convoluted relationship, but she was also worried about several of her peers. Obviously, she had been affected by the weekend's Weasley meltdown, and was annoyingly concerned over each of the participants. The girl was also anxious about the possibility of Potter's and Weasley's friendship becoming strained. Apparently The-Boy-Who-Lived was more focused on winning the Quidditch Cup than keeping his friend happy. More so than that, he was lusting after the boy's sister, whose resemblance to Lily was almost uncanny.

Beyond that, though, the girl was troubled about the Weasley brat's apparent regards for her, and was desperately trying to think of a way to let him down gently without damaging his feelings or their friendship. What seemed to make it more difficult for her was that had circumstances been different, Miss Granger would have willingly accepted his affections, and would have likely returned them.

Severus blew out a breath and then took another slow sip of coffee. She had just as many secrets swimming around in her head as he had in his, and yet she generally managed to hold her temper and keep everyone else from exploding at each other. How she could do that all and still receive top marks was astounding.

Suddenly, Miss Granger seemed to become aware that she was being watched, and began glancing about the room. As her eyes met his, she startled almost imperceptibly and immediately dropped her gaze to the table.

Snape grimaced and then averted his eyes from her figure. He scanned the room diligently, and could not help but feel a small sense of gratitude to Potter for not picking out a worse individual to befriend. The giggling, brainless Lavender Brown, for instance, or even worse - Luna Lovegood. If he were facing a lifetime full of gnargles and bollywockers and other such nonsense, he surely would be hard-pressed to find a reason not to march straight up to Voldemort and declare loudly that the Dark Lord's face looked like something a cat had coughed up, re-eaten, and shat back out again.

Besides, he greatly doubted that any other girl under his tutelage would have held up half as well. Or developed her own method of Occlumency, for that matter. Smirking, he thought back to how she had done it – somehow she had focused her mind and had used it almost as if it were a wand. If she had been able to utilize it to hide away her memories, he wondered what else could be done with it.

He had previously considered the possibility of simply willing her side of the connection to be inaudible, but all attempts to do so had failed. If he could attempt her method, however, maybe it could work. If he could manipulate his mind to direct his magic, perhaps he could silence her thoughts.

_What am I supposed to do? Simply pretend my brain is a wand and launch a silencing spell at her?_ Severus snorted, and rubbed his forehead. Shifting in his chair, he realized that Minerva was watching him with a curious eye. He glared coldly until she rolled her eyes and looked away, and then refocused his mind on his task.

Closing his eyes, he slowed his breathing somewhat and retreated into his mental-scape. He could sense that his Occlumency shields were on full alert, waiting to spring into place at the slightest hint of intrusion. Glancing about the dark space, he could see where her inner monologue was streaming in from some invisible source. At one desperate moment, he had even attempted to block the leak by shoving a bunch of imaginary rocks into the hole, but the strong flow had instantly burst through it. He had then tried covering the space with his hands, only to find the surge slipping through the cracks between his fingers.

Now, as he watched the energy swirling around him, he contemplated the fact that, unless he intentionally focused on her thoughts, he could not see images as he had at first. He had managed after a great deal of time to occlude those, but unfortunately that protection had not extended to sound – or perceived sound, as it were.

Thinking again of Granger's method, he sighed and began shutting out all of his own thoughts. _It's worth a shot, at least._

With intense focus, he attempted to find the edges of his mental magic and pull them together. After a few seconds' worth of attempts, it did appear to be working, and he could feel the power condensing within his grasp. Astounded, he turned to focus his own energy on the invading stream, and steadied himself.

He swallowed nervously before mentally shouting, _'Silencio!'_

There was an intense shaking as magical energy shot forth from his hands and collided with the torrent of her thoughts. As the vibrations died away, he released his hold on his magic, and watched in amazement as it began to dissipate back across the space.

_Well, that was at least interesting, even if it didn't work_. His mental image shrugged and decided it was time to head back to reality, when suddenly he realized his voice was alone in his own head. Spinning, he turned to look at Hermione's stream of consciousness – it was still as vibrant as ever….but it was silent.

Jumping back in surprise, Severus found himself spiraling out of his head and back into his seat. He jerked noticeably as his eyes flew open, and then cursed as he spilled the rest of his hot coffee down the back of his hand.

"Severus, are you alright?" McGonagall questioned, while Lupin and Vector both stared at him in amused concern.

Snape glanced at the deputy headmistress, then quickly in the direction of the Gryffindor table where Hermione seemed to be blissfully unaware of anything having happened. Clearing his throat, he raised his brow and pushed his chair back from the table.

"Indeed," he muttered as he stood, pulling his injured hand into his sleeve. "Merely forgot to slip the poison into Lupin's monthly smoothie."

A number of snorts erupted from those within hearing distance, and Minerva shook her head. "If I didn't know any better, Severus, I'd think you actually enjoy Remus's company."

Glaring at the pleased look on the Defense instructor's face, he rolled his eyes and shuddered. "I think you need your head examined, Minerva. You're becoming nearly as senile as our most fearless leader."

"Bite your tongue, young man!" she shouted after him as he stepped down from the dais, and stalked down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

Snape ignored the deputy headmistress's outburst, choosing instead to focus his attention on Miss Granger as he passed where she was sitting. From the corner of his eye, he could see her gaze briefly flicker towards him and then immediately snap back to Potter. She laughed at something the boy said, and then offered a gentle chastisement in response.

Over the chatter of the room, he could not make out exactly what had been said, but it mattered little to him. He could not hear her in his head, and it had not affected her ability to speak in the least. He did not know how long the effect would last, but for now he would count it as a victory.

And as a celebration, he was going to stop by his quarters and apply burn salve to his hand.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Perhaps he really _has_ gone to poison me," Remus sighed, watching as Snape slammed the door against the wall and disappeared around the corner.

"Nonsense," Minerva clucked, taking a sip of her tea. "He enjoys verbally abusing you too much."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "He has seemed in bit of a mood lately, though. I suspect he's still bitter over losing the Defense position to me…_again_."

The witch took in a deep breath, glancing briefly in Hermione's direction, before turning her attention back to the man beside her.

Remus noticed she wore a sobered expression and cocked his head. "Something the matter, Minerva?"

McGonagall tightened her lips, shrugged, and then lowered her voice. "I don't think he actually wants the position, you know. At least not until circumstances are different."

The man raised his eyebrows in surprise and frowned. "But why does he keep applying for it then, if he doesn't want it?"

"Think about it, Remus," she said sternly with a pointed stare.

A puzzled look crossed his countenance as he turned back to his plate. He mulled her words over as he slowly chewed his last piece of bacon. As he swallowed, the light of realization appeared in his eyes. "Certain _people _expect it of him, don't they?"

She gave a solemn dip of her head as her eyes scanned the hall.

Lupin cleared his throat and rested his chin on his hands. "It would make the line that much harder to walk, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed it would," she nodded, tossing her cloth napkin onto the table and pushing her chair back from the table.

"Leaving already?" he asked.

Minerva sighed and gestured towards the Gryffindor table. "I thought I would have a word with Miss Granger before she makes her way to your class."

Remus suddenly glanced out at the girl. "She certainly seems better adjusted today. I would have assumed you had already spoken with her."

The witch shook her head. "I had meant to, certainly. Unfortunately, though, I was busy most of yesterday trying to smooth things over with Mr. Thomas's parents. His mother and step-father were quite understandably upset over the owl they received over the weekend."

"I would have thought Dumbledore would handle that."

McGonagall snorted and peeked up at the Headmaster with a shake of her head. She looked back at Lupin and smiled. "One would assume."

The man chuckled again, smiling. "I've always assumed you were the one actually running things around here."

Her eyes widened in amusement as she stood from her chair. "Don't let the secret out."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"What the -" Ron suddenly sputtered, dropping his toast to his plate. "Tell me you all just saw that."

Harry and Hermione exchanged strange looks and then glanced at their friend, who had until then had been quietly sulking.

"See what, Ron?" Harry asked.

The redhead gestured towards the Head Table where Snape had just stood. "Snape! He just -"

"Professor Snape," she corrected.

"Okay, _Professor_ Snape, then," he adjusted with a smirk, "I think he just fell asleep! His eyes were closed, and then all of a sudden he came to with a start and spilled something on himself."

Hermione could tell the dark-robed wizard was walking in their direction, and as he strode past their table, she summoned the courage to look at him.

"Maybe he had a nightmare that he was teaching Potions, dressed like Neville's grandmother," Harry snickered.

She fearfully pulled her attention back to the boy across from her, worried that the Slytherin Head would be upset over their conversation, and take it out on them later that afternoon.

"That would give anyone a start," Neville muttered mournfully from beside Harry.

"'Specially the hat," Ron agreed.

Hermione found herself laughing in spite of her fear as she remembered the image of the boggart Snape. She quickly shook her head, though, and sighed at her friends. "Honestly, Harry – you shouldn't poke fun at him. He is a professor, after all."

"A professor who doesn't hesitate to rip us to shreds, though," Ron supplied.

She grimaced almost imperceptibly, but otherwise pretended to ignore the redhead.

"It's not like he's going to hear us, anyway," Harry added. "If he had, we would be paying for it already."

"You still shouldn't," she sighed, looking at her plate. After a few moments, she shrugged. "Besides, he probably doesn't get much sleep."

"Guess that could explain why he's a foul git all the time."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry and Neville laughed at Ron's comment. As she fiddled with her fork, she silently willed an apology towards the professor. She had just begun to contemplate whether or not he would actually respond when a gentle throat clearing caught her attention.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall greeted her with a smile. "Thank you for handling the little incident this morning. I trust you'll keep the items safe."

The girl smiled and nodded. "Do you want them now?"

"No, no," the elder witch shook her head. "You can drop them by my office later. Thursday night would be fine, if you have no objections."

"Erm, no," Hermione answered, with a look of slight confusion.

"Good. I've been meaning to have a chat with you," Minerva nodded, patting the girl on the shoulder while glancing sternly at the three boys who were staring at them. "I'll see all of you in class this afternoon. Longbottom, Potter, _Weasley_ – do behave yourselves."

As the deputy headmistress calmly strode away, Ron blushed and sank in his seat. "She hates me."

Hermione shook her head. "She doesn't hate you, Ronald – and neither does Ginny. Though, I think they both would appreciate it if you don't assault any more of Ginny's boyfriends."

"I suppose you're right," he sighed, before narrowing his eyes in a panic. "Hold on! What do you mean 'any more of Ginny's boyfriends'? Just _how_ _many_ boyfriends does she have?"

She sighed, shooting a meaningful glance towards Harry, who had suddenly become interested in arranging his silverware. She then gave Ron a disapproving look. "I didn't mean she had more than one _now_. I just meant she may not always be going out with Dean."

"Bloody hell," he muttered angrily.

"Oh, grow up, Ronald," she groaned. "She went out with Michael Corner last year, and you didn't beat_ him_ up."

"Yeah, well, that was different," he grumbled. "I thought Dean was my friend, til I caught him snogging my sister. He betrayed my trust, dinnit he?"

She let out a frustrated hiss, and understood perfectly when Harry suddenly stood up from the table and made to leave.

"Oi," Ron called out to him. "What's with you?"

Harry sighed and answered without turning around. "Forgot my Defense book."

"Oh."

Hermione waited until Harry was out of earshot before rounding on the boy beside her. "You are being completely ridiculous!"

"You just don't get it, 'Mione," he responded. "You don't have a sister, and you're not a guy."

"And thank goodness for that!" she hissed, standing up and grabbing her bookbag.

"Where are you going?" he asked in surprise.

"To class!" she answered, whirling around and beginning to walk away.

"But Remus hasn't even left yet!" Ron cried, gesturing towards the Head Table.

"Then I won't be late!"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus sighed as the last fourth-year Hufflepuff slipped out of his classroom and sent the door slamming shut before collapsing in his chair. He glanced at the clock and gave a small grunt. There were still twenty-three minutes before he had to open the door for the sixth years. Twenty-three minutes of time to himself.

_Twenty-three minutes to get rid of this massive headache._ Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled out the top drawer of his desk and blindly felt around for a flask of headache-relief potion. Finally succeeding, he popped off the cap, not caring where it landed, and quickly downed the pea-green liquid. He grimaced slightly at the aftertaste and banished the empty vial back to his personal lab.

"You brought this on yourself, you know," he muttered bitterly as he massaged his temple. _Messing with your head all day long. Idiot._

Since his apparent success at breakfast, Snape had spent any free time he had practicing how to silence and un-silence Granger's thoughts. He had become quite good at it, as a result, being able to send a mental '_Silencio'_ or '_Finite Incantetum_' within a matter of a few seconds. It was actually fascinating to witness just how well it worked. He had absolute order in his head for the first time since August, and, for once, he could set his entire mind to his lessons. He had been able to pick up on a few more instances of improper technique and misbehavior that had previously gone unnoticed, and, in his morning classes at least, he had felt less inclined to fly into a rage.

This did not hold true for the afternoon session of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw fourth-years, for by then his head had become a virtual pressure cooker. He had not felt this much mental strain since he had first started teaching himself Occlumency. Like an amateur, he had tried to take on too much and had overtaxed his mind. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the back of his chair and attempted to get a few minutes' rest.

By the time the chimes on his desk softly announced that it was nearly time to begin the next practical session, the potion had only managed to take the edge off of the pain. As such, his scowl was deeper than usual as he stalked towards the classroom door and yanked it open.

Without needing to be told, the collection of fourteen students filed past him into the room. Each of them knew his moods well enough not to look him in the eye, though Granger did chance a hesitant glance at his face. At seeing the fearful expression upon her countenance, he sighed and made a silent vow not to lose his temper as he had done in the last class.

"Turn to page eighty-seven, where you'll find the instructions for today's potion," he barked. "And clearly if you're in this class, you're intelligent enough to know where to find the ingredients."

He inwardly groaned when a number of students stared up at him in mild surprise instead of setting into work. "There will be no questions today, so you can set aside your hopes of receiving any points, and I expect silence from each of you while you are brewing. If you prove incapable of this, there will be consequences. Begin!"

Severus had noticed that Miss Granger had nearly sagged with relief at his proclamation of not asking questions, and now there was a look of pure determination on her face as she set off towards the storeroom for supplies, falling into line behind Ernie Macmillan. That was one worry gone from his mind; the only other one was –

"Watch it, Potter!" Draco hissed as he shoved the dark-haired boy against the doorframe.

Harry scowled and made a move for his wand.

"Harry, don't," Hermione whispered harshly, pulling his arm towards her. "Let it go."

"Ooh, listen to the mudblood, Potter," the blonde cooed. "Remind you of your mum, does she?"

_For fuck's sake_, Snape grimaced as Harry yanked his arm out of the girl's grasp and produced his wand. Immediately, the Potions Master crossed the distance and grabbed the boy by the back of his collar.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for brandishing your wand in my classroom, Potter!" he shouted, yanking the boy out of the storeroom and sending him in the direction of his table.

Severus spun back around in time to see the taunting smirk on Draco's face. "Ten points from Slytherin."

Draco's jaw dropped as he pointed towards Harry. "But, sir – _he_ threatened _me_!"

"I clearly expressed that there was to be _silence_ in this classroom," he responded with a cool glare. "Take your seat, Mr. Malfoy – before I make it fifteen points! And if I _ever_ hear that word in my classroom again, it will be a detention!"

The blonde's mouth slammed shut as he stormed back to his seat amongst a classroom full of whispers. The sound died away, however, as soon as Snape faced the students with a murderous snarl, and several heads dropped back to focus on the work before them. Potter, though, stood by his table, devoid of any ingredients and glaring angrily at him.

Severus swallowed back a nasty retort and glanced back at the storeroom where Hermione still stood, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "Miss Granger, deliver the necessary supplies to Misters Malfoy and Potter, since they are obviously too incompetent to procure anything for themselves."

The girl schooled her features and nodded as she set to gathering enough ingredients for three brews. She cast a hesitant glance in the professor's direction before striding over towards the Slytherin students with her head held high. Ignoring the disgusted look on their faces as she deposited the items in front of Draco, she coolly made a quick retreat to the table she shared with Harry and carefully set down their collection of ingredients. With a piercing stare at the boy next to her, she yanked on his sleeve and enthusiastically motioned towards his cauldron.

Snape watched with a sneer as Potter let out an angry huff, picked up his knife, and began violently hacking away at a pile of ginger roots. With one more warning look sent towards Draco, he slipped into the storeroom under the pretense of straightening up the shelves. When he noticed that somebody had already seen to that – Granger, more than likely – he let out a deep breath and wiped his hand across his face.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione stared at the open storeroom door with a perplexed look on her face as she began heating the base of her cauldron. She could practically feel the rage radiating from Harry and knew from the way he was mangling the ginger root that he was imagining either Snape or Draco – or both, probably – beneath his blade. Rolling her eyes, she turned her attention away from him and caught a glimpse of Draco. He was standing as proud as he ever had, and she could imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face. Her gut suddenly clenched with worry that Snape's outburst at the boy would cast suspicion on the spy.

As she slipped her own precisely-sliced ginger into the warm water, she chanced another glance in the blonde's direction. For a moment he had turned enough so she could see his face, and Hermione was startled by the absence of his usual smug expression. He instead seemed to be concentrating solely on his work, though, when Professor Snape reappeared in the classroom, she saw a flicker of fear cross his features. She frowned at that and looked up with a questioning gaze aimed at the man who had just emerged from the storeroom.

Snape paused a minute when he caught her stare, but responded only with a raise of his eyebrows. Hermione dropped her eyes back to the salmon-grass she was dicing and contemplated what she had seen. She had always understood that Snape had to maintain his cover in front of his Slytherins – Malfoy, especially – lest someone begin to suspect his true loyalties. Draco was a direct link to his father, who in turn was a direct link to Voldemort. Today, though, the only one who appeared to be worried about anything was the Malfoy heir.

_Strange_, she thought, glancing up at Snape as he walked past her to examine the progress being made by the class. Looking at the far side of the room, she witnessed Draco look nervously towards the professor and then rub the sleeve of his left arm.

"I hate him," Harry whispered heatedly, chucking his ginger root into his cauldron.

Hermione whipped her head back around in his direction, and then checked to see that Snape was still near the Slytherins. "Don't say that, Harry."

The boy raised his angry eyes to meet hers. "You heard what Draco said, and yet Snape punished _me_."

She scrunched her nose up in distaste as she quickly whispered, "They were just words. _You_ pulled out your wand to _attack_ him. McGonagall would have given you detention for that. Even _I_ would have taken more points from you than he did, and Malfoy lost just as many points as you."

"Yeah, for not being quiet," he hissed. "Not for what he actually said to me."

"Were you even _listening_?" she responded hotly. "I swear, Harry, some days you can be really thick."

"He let Sirius die, Hermione!" Harry answered in a louder tone.

Hermione grimaced as Snape's eyes immediately locked onto the pair of them.

"Potter – five points from Gryffindor," he drawled almost nonchalantly as he glanced over their cauldrons. He gave no expression over hers, but sneered disdainfully at Harry's.

Hermione gave the professor an apologetic look, which he blatantly ignored as he stalked on to the next table. She waited a few minutes before sighing. By now the entire classroom was filled with the sound of bubbling potions, and she could be sure that none of the students could hear them. "No, he didn't."

"I tried to warn him about Sirius," Harry whispered again, "and he did nothing."

"Oh, and the Order just _magically_ appeared when we needed them? Are you _that_ dense?"

The boy narrowed his glare even further. "Stop defending him, Hermione!"

"Then stop accusing him unnecessarily," she hissed back.

"Unnecessarily?" he snapped under his breath. "You don't get it. He's not a nice guy, Hermione, and some day he's going to do something even _you_ can't forgive him for."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hot as she slammed a jar of beetle wings on the tabletop, catching Snape's attention from the front of the room. He gave her an obvious warning look, and she nodded once as she returned to her brewing. Choosing to focus solely on her work for the remainder of the time, she turned her body slightly so that the back of her shoulder faced Harry.

"After your shrivelfigs have properly dissolved," Snape called out half an hour later, "leave your potions under stasis, and resume working first thing tomorrow morning. Any of you who are dunderheaded enough to blunder your stasis charms shall receive a zero for both days' work _and_ will be required to demonstrate the proper charm during Monday's lecture."

As everyone else returned their eyes to their potions, Hermione covertly watched the Potions master while she calmly stirred counterclockwise. She chewed on her lip as she glimpsed him pinching the bridge of his nose and wincing as though his head were aching. As she worked and tried to ignore the tension at her table, she would periodically peek at him through her bangs. Something seemed off, but she frowned when she could not decide what exactly was different.

"Hermione, you do realize your potion is ready, don't you?" Harry interrupted her musings a few minutes later.

She gave a slight start and glanced down at her cauldron. The potion was, in fact, the murky green color described in the text, and was more than ready to be placed under stasis. She was not quite ready to leave, though.

"Oh, erm," she stammered, "I wasn't quite sure if the color was drab enough. It still seems rather olive-toned to me."

Harry rolled his eyes as he started applying the charm to his own brew. "It's fine, Hermione."

Seeing that Snape was only a few steps away, she seized an opportunity and tossed her hand in the air. "Professor, is this the correct shade of green?"

The Slytherin Head raised an eyebrow in surprise.

When he was close enough to her, she mouthed, "Are you alright?"

He blinked once in shock, and then slowly peered into her cauldron. He cleared his throat and then answered, "It's fine."

"Are – are you sure?" she asked, meaningfully staring at him.

Snape took a step back from her and kept his face blank of emotion. "Do not bother me any more today, Miss Granger."

As he stalked away again, Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and began whispering the stasis spell.

"Perfect as usual," Harry intoned derisively as he began to clear away his excess materials.

She narrowed her eyes, staring holes in the back of his head as she followed him to the storeroom. After he haphazardly set the materials on the shelves, she sighed impatiently and began straightening them. She waited a few seconds after Harry had left, and took a deep breath to steady herself. When she felt calm enough, she strode back out into the classroom and scooped up her bag. As she turned to leave, she paused at the sight of something under the table. Checking to see that no one was watching her, she bent down to retrieve the black vial stopper. As she rolled it around in her fingers, she looked again to make sure she was unmonitored by any students and then casually flicked it in the direction of Harry's cauldron. A nasty smirk played across her face as she heard the soft plunk of the cap breaking the stasis spell and sinking into the brew.

Quietly, she slipped out of the classroom and headed towards Gryffindor Tower to ready herself for supper.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As Thursday's evening meal drew to a close, Hermione covered her face with her hands as Harry once again complained about his potion being ruined.

"It was Snape," he spat bitterly. "I don't care what you say, Hermione. It _had_ to be him. He was only too happy to throw me out of the classroom yesterday."

"And maybe you just did the charm improperly," she muttered from behind her hands.

"No. I _didn't_."

Ron looked between the two of them with a strange expression on his face, and shrugged. "Coulda been Malfoy."

Harry suddenly lost the redness from his face as he considered the suggestion.

"I mean, he was being his usual charming self, right?" Ron prodded. "And instead of just getting _you_ in trouble, you both got the same punishment – and from _Snape_, even. He probably had more reason to mess with it than Snape did – even though the slimy git probably enjoyed the outcome."

"Yeah, I guess."

Hermione peeked between her fingers and saw that the boy's anger had deflated. The smile that she had been hiding earlier had been replaced with a look of slight shock at Ron's assessment. Granted, he was still highly off-base, but it was a reasonable assumption given what information he had.

_Since he doesn't know I'm petty enough to resort to sabotage over an argument_. She dropped her hands and sighed. Glancing up at the Head Table she noticed that Snape was staring at her peculiarly, and that McGonagall had already left. Since the Gryffindor Head had not given a specific time for their meeting, Hermione decided that after supper was as good of a time as any.

Plus, she did not know how much longer she could keep a straight face with Harry lamenting about his upcoming presentation in Potions. With a terse good-bye, she stood up from the bench and quickly made her way out of the Great Hall. As she walked towards McGonagall's office, she began to reconsider her act of potion-tampering.

She knew full well that it had been mean and spiteful for her to do that, yet only a small part of her regretted her actions. Harry was still hurting over Sirius's death –_ that_ she understood – and he was incapable of seeing reason regarding it. It angered her that he was throwing around accusations unjustly, and it had made her blood boil when he spoke of things he could not possibly comprehend. Harry was not the only one who had faced Voldemort; he was not the only one to have been tortured; he was not the only one to have control taken away from him; he was not the only one to lose his family to the Death Eaters. She had wanted to scream all of those things at him – thoroughly admonish him – and could not do so.

Instead, she took what little satisfaction she could find in the blackened sludge of Harry's potion. She realized she had cost him two sessions' worth of points and had felt sorry for that, until a voice in her head reminded her of all the homework points she had earned for him over the years. By her account, they were not even close to equal.

_And what are a few zeros in Potions anyway? Not really that important when you look at the grand scheme of things._ Hermione frowned as she halted before the deputy headmistress's office. With a sigh, she pushed Harry from her thoughts and knocked on the door. When a voice bade her entrance, she forced a smile onto her face and stepped into the room.

"Oh, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall greeted, standing from her desk. "I hadn't expected you quite this early."

"Sorry," she winced, gesturing towards the door. "If this is a bad time, I could come back later."

"No, no," the woman stated quickly, nervously touching her neck while gesturing with her other arm towards an armchair. "Do take a seat. I'm sure it'll be a fine time."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in confusion as she sank into the chair. Suddenly remembering the reason she had come, she pulled a small sack out of her pocket and set it on the desk. "The whiz-bangs from Tuesday, Professor."

"Thank you," the elder witch replied, snatching up the bag and carrying it over towards a small cabinet. A variety of other Weasley products could be seen as she opened the door and deposited the sack inside. At seeing Hermione's face, the woman shrugged, "Argus Filch is not the only one with a contraband collection. And after dealing with that deplorable woman, I feel it never hurts to be prepared."

The girl let out a small laugh and gave a genuine grin.

"Now," Minerva stated, reclaiming her seat and pushing a stack of essays out of her way. "How are you, Hermione?"

"About as well as can be expected, I suppose," she answered quietly.

The woman gave a hesitant nod. "I suppose so, yes. Are you adjusting to classes? I've noticed you seem to be handling yourself well this week."

"Yes, well, Professor Snape made it abundantly clear that I am to carry on as normal." Hermione let out a sigh. "Guess the lesson stuck."

"Oh?" she quirked an eyebrow. When silence was all that met her question, she leaned forward onto her elbows. "Hermione, did he do something to make you feel uncomfortable?"

"What does it matter?" the girl shrugged apathetically. "The whole _thing_ makes me uncomfortable. Better uncomfortable, though, than dead, right?"

McGonagall pinched her lips together in concern. "You're certainly starting to sound like him."

Hermione let out a mournful breath and sagged against the back of her seat. "You have no idea, Professor."

"Everything matters, Miss Granger," she instructed. "Your safety is vital, yes, but isn't the only important thing. Don't forget that."

The young witch nodded slowly, and then paused when she noticed McGonagall was not looking at her, but instead was deliberately staring over her head. Spinning quickly in her seat, she froze momentarily when she saw Snape standing rigidly near the door.

"Severus," Minerva addressed him tersely. "I see you're still suffering from an inability to knock. I do hope it isn't terminal."

The man rolled his eyes and folded his arms against his chest.

"I take it he's here to collect you," the deputy headmistress explained, catching Hermione's attention again. "We figured it might be easier to arrange your lessons with Professor Snape under the pretense of meeting with me – at least for the time being. It may draw less attention from the rest of the staff."

Hermione's eyes snapped to Snape as the man uttered a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'Lupin.'

"But if there's anything you would like to talk about, he's agreed to bugger off and leave the two of us be," McGonagall continued. "So if there is anything you wish to discuss now, I can ask him to leave."

_Not like he wouldn't hear it anyway_. The girl shook her head and stood from her chair. "I'm alright, Professor. Thank you."

She crossed over to the fireplace where Snape was waiting and flashed the woman an appreciative smile. The man beside her gave a dip of his head as he threw in a pinch of floo powder and set Hermione spinning into his own office. As he made to follow her through the green flames, the Gryffindor Head called out to him.

"Oh, and Severus – if your plan is to fail Potter so that he loses the Quidditch captaincy and improves Slytherin's chances at the Cup, you have another thing coming!"

The Potions Master snorted and disappeared into the fireplace.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Imagine my surprise, Miss Granger," he drawled a short while later, "to discover that not only are you a thief, but also a budding saboteur."

Hermione grimaced and dropped her eyes to the floor, waiting for the inevitable shouting or point loss. Frankly, she was surprised he had managed to go two whole days without punishing her.

"A word of caution for any future endeavors in the subject – consider your location carefully."

She raised her head at that and stared at him quizzically.

"Had I not been in close enough proximity when Mr. Potter's potion blew, yours would have undoubtedly blown as well," he explained. "As it was, I was able to reapply the stasis charm before it reached a critical stage."

Hermione widened her eyes in surprise. "You saved my potion? Why? You could've given me a zero along with Harry."

"And discourage your apparent Slytherin tendencies? I think not." He crossed over towards his desk and perched on the edge. "It seemed a decent enough exercise in its own right. If you could lie to Potter and escape any and all suspicion, it would be a step in the right direction. That being said, the Boy Wonder is an exceptionally dense individual. Do not expect to tell the Dark Lord a bald-faced lie and survive by hiding behind your hands."

Unsure of what to say, she simply nodded and shifted in her seat.

Severus sighed and crossed his arms. "I take it Potter believes that I was the one to ruin his pathetic attempts."

"Well, either you or Malfoy."

"Predictable," he snorted.

She shrugged in agreement, and then bit her lip. "Speaking of Malfoy – Professor, aren't you worried about having punished him? It's not exactly the first time he's called me a mud – "

"I said I didn't want to hear the word from anyone," he spat quickly. "_You_ are no exception, Miss Granger. And Draco would not risk it over a trivial classroom dispute."

"Risk what, exactly?" she pressed.

A few moments passed in tense silence, before Snape cleared his throat. "Angering the Dark Lord further. After what happened at the Ministry, his father has fallen out of favor. There is a pecking order amongst Death Eaters, and for once, I outrank him. I assume that to be part of the reason you -"

He trailed off suddenly and pushed away from his desk.

"Part of the reason what?"

"Leave it be, Miss Granger," he cautioned.

Hermione frowned as she closed her mouth. Her eyes widened as she realized what he meant. _Part of the reason I was given to him. _

She shuddered slightly, and was nearly caught off-guard when he suddenly spun and shouted, "Legilimens!"


	27. Blow Up

**A/N: After a decent wait, here's another LONG update! Just in time for the Easter holiday. Plenty of happenings in this chapter, and since I had a request for more of Hermione's thoughts, I've tried to mingle those in with the plot.  
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**Lovely reviews from livebyinsanity, vampirela69, woodshark, joanna-archer, DedicatedReader, memorieslost05, Lucente, Startled Boris, tennis14321432, Lover of Fantasy, melonka, hnwhitlock2000, severus49, cypris88, Marble Meadow, silverose29, early1991, MadamigellaSnape, BlooDsucKkerR69, hey, Sev01, ineverdothis, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Mel, Hazel08, KittyPimms, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, callalily32, Angelwells, Phoenixica24, Jinx452, Stacy Vorosco, xSiriusxstalkerx, and Sezao1! Thank you! **

**Also, special shoutout to BlooDsucKker69 for being the 500th reviewer!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 27**

Hermione pinched her lips together and threw up her mental shields as she stalked past the Potions Master. By the time she had reached her seat, the tugging feeling had diminished, though she thought it best to not yet stop her occluding. The pulling sensation returned a few seconds later, and she glanced challengingly up at the professor. When his lips curled slightly, she knew she had made the right decision. He gave a dip of his head, indicating he was dropping his attempted assault.

As she pulled out her textbook, she allowed her shields to slowly descend. After she had nearly failed to block his entrance that night in his office, Snape had insisted that she needed more practice. In the several days since, he had taken to testing her ability, completely unannounced and at random times and locations – whilst passing in the halls, during meals in the Great Hall, and now even during class.

An angry huff beside her caught her attention, and she peeked out of the corner of her eye at Harry. He was wearing a deep scowl as he flipped through the book to the instructed page. She knew he was still bitter over having to stand before the class yesterday morning and demonstrate that he did, in fact, possess the intelligence needed to perform a proper charm. It was as embarrassing as anyone could have predicted, and the Slytherins had not passed up the chance to torment him further.

It was bad enough to make Hermione wholeheartedly regret her actions. Harry had been in a horrible mood all weekend, and had spent most of it on his broom. Ron had been brave enough to accompany him the first night, in the hopes of getting in some extra practice, but had returned soon after in a gloomy state of his own. In addition to snapping at his best friend, Harry had been incredibly short with a number of Gryffindors who had been excited about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts. The only positive that had come out of the situation was that Ron and Ginny were speaking to each other again, commiserating with each other over the tension with Harry.

_And it's entirely my fault_, she grimaced, looking down at her book and memorizing the list of ingredients. She took a deep breath and faced the boy. "I can grab your ingredients, if you want."

Harry looked at her in surprise, but then shook his head miserably. "And let Snape think I'm too incompetent to get them myself? No thanks."

"Sorry," she whispered, shrugging her shoulders in frustration as she headed to the storeroom for her own necessities.

Silence was all that passed between them for nearly an hour. She would look up every now and then to watch Snape as he snidely corrected someone's technique. He seemed better today than he did a week prior – much more his usual caustic self.

_Who would have thought that would ever be a relief?_ Hermione gave a small smirk as she reached for the jar of dried fluxweed. She weighed out the appropriate amount and sprinkled it evenly over the brew as she stirred the mixture in a star-shaped pattern. With a strange amusement, she listened to the professor berating Terry Boot for failing to note the change in stirring directions.

She could feel Harry stiffen beside her as Snape moved towards them.

"Tut, tut, Potter," he cooed menacingly. "Have you recently become color-blind?"

"No," the boy spat back.

"Do tell what color the sleeping potion is supposed to be at this stage."

Harry ground his teeth and flicked his eyes to the text, but said nothing.

Hermione hesitantly looked over the rim of his cauldron and frowned. It certainly was not the described pale fuschia as hers was. Instead, it seemed to be the same shade as the 'burnt sienna' crayon she used to use to draw her hair as a small child.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten how to read, Potter," Snape hissed, drawing the attention of the entire classroom towards them.

It seemed Harry could no longer hold his tongue, but Hermione had tuned out his response as she began pondering why his potion was a different color. She had been checking periodically to ensure he was using the correct technique, so unless he had accidentally substituted one of the ingredients, the color should have been the same as her brew. Glancing between their respective collections of materials, she eventually noticed that his jar of fluxweed had a different style of lid.

Slipping the stirring rod out of her potion and setting it carefully on table, she reached for his jar. She gasped as she read the label. Clearly written in Snape's neat writing were the words 'flax seed.' Harry had mistakenly grabbed flax seed instead of fluxweed.

Her eyes widened in horror as she remembered that the sopohorous bean could only be mixed with a select number of ingredients or else it could become volatile and produce a dangerous gas upon heating. Snape had spent a great deal of yesterday's lecture beating into their heads which few substances could be used in a sleeping potion with sopohorous beans. Fluxweed was one of the safe ingredients; flax seed was not.

"Professor!" she shouted in concern.

"Silence!" he bellowed, immediately turning back to Harry. "Ten points for your impudence, boy!"

"But-" her voice cut off as an intense pain exploded across her spine. She opened her mouth again, only to have the pain intensify.

_'Damn it! Listen to me!'_ Still holding the jar, she began waving her arms frantically as Harry shouted.

"So my potion's the wrong color – why don't you just_ fail_ me_, sir_! Better yet – fail me for tomorrow's potion, too! I know that's what you intend to do anyway so -"

"Do _not_ raise your voice to me, you little brat!" Snape snarled. "Miss Granger, be still! And how _dare_ you presume to know anything about _my_ intentions!"

The shouting between the pair of them continued, but Hermione heard none of it. Fire raged through her nervous system as she dropped her arms to her side. Tears were blinding her vision, but she could not move to wipe them away for fear of making it worse.

'_Professor!_' she mentally shouted. '_Please listen to me! Any minute the potion could explode! Professor, please!'_

She inhaled deeply in an attempt to push through the rising pain, but quickly found the movement of her chest was enough to defy his command. With every breath, her discomfort grew until she did not dare draw in any more air.

'_Oh God! I can't breathe! Look at me! Look at me, you stupid son-of-a-bitch!_' She continued pleading with him for what seemed like ages, but he did not once stop in his tirade to even glance at her. _'Listen to me! Please! I can't breathe! I can't….'_

Black dots were beginning to dance around the edges of her vision, and she could feel her knees beginning to buckle.

_Oh my God, I'm going to die_. Her lip trembled painfully as she tried to will herself to remain upright. She had to get him to hear her. If that potion blew, she was not the only one who was going to be seriously injured. Snape needed to stabilize it – he was probably the only one who knew how.

_'Professor….please….I can't breathe…' _

"Hermione! Are you okay?" Ernie MacMillan shouted suddenly.

Severus's rant died off mid-sentence as he snapped his attention towards the Hufflepuff boy, and then at the girl. She was unsteadily swaying on her feet, looking nearly ready to pass out. Tears were streaming down her face, which was currently twisted in agony.

"Granger!" he shouted, moving to push past Potter. A loud bubbling noise drew his immediate attention back towards the boy's cauldron, and his eyes widened as he realized it was rocking dangerously. It was too late to stabilize it now – there were only seconds left before it blew.

"Potter, run!" he ordered.

"What?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Get out! Don't argue with me!" Snape furthered. "Everyone leave the classroom… NOW!"

Thirteen students immediately startled to their feet and quickly fled towards the door. Hermione, however, began dropping to the floor as her eyes rolled back in their sockets. Severus blanched as he darted at the girl, catching hold of her just before her head hit the ground.

"Breathe, Granger!" he hissed in her ear, hauling her into his arms. He heard her sharp intake of air as he hurried across the classroom, slamming the door shut half a second after a large blast sent pieces of Potter's cauldron in every direction. Gasps erupted behind him as he made sure the door was completely sealed.

"There will be no class tomorrow morning," he stated quietly, trying to still the racing beat of his heart. "Return to your dormitories."

As the wide-eyed students began to disperse, Snape quickly made his way towards his office with the semi-conscious girl.

"Sir!" Harry called out, practically running to keep up with the man's long stride. "Is she alright? What happened?"

With a snarl, Severus tore the jar of flax seed from Hermione's hand and thrust it against the boy's chest. "There are consequences to not paying attention."

Potter glanced down at the container and paled when he read the label. "Oh my God – I didn't -"

The man did not hear anything more as he had already kicked his office door shut. His attention was solely focused on the girl who was quivering against his chest, fighting for air. He could feel the heat radiating off her back even through her school robes.

"Can you stand?" he asked.

Her eyes stared at him angrily, and he noticed that she was doing her best to remain perfectly still. Grimacing, he remembered what he had shouted at her in class. "Miss Granger, move if you are physically able."

A second later, she forcibly pushed against him, tumbling out of his grasp and onto the floor. Hermione then curled into a ball and silently shook with pain.

Severus cursed beneath his breath as he scrambled behind his desk and pulled out the top drawer. He quickly retrieved a jar of salve and returned to her side. Dropping to his knees, he slid her robes past her waist and pushed up the edge of her blouse. Her body jerked as he began to spread the cool, orange ointment across the wound.

"I cannot even begin to express my apologies," he said softly, watching the redness of her skin slowly vanish back to her normal skin tone. "Does it still hurt?"

Hermione spun onto her bottom, facing him with a piercing glare. Her chest heaving, she slowly shook her head without even blinking.

"You may speak, Miss Granger," he stated as soon as he realized she was still following his earlier command of silence.

The sound of a slap reverberated around the room as her hand struck across his face with enough force to knock his head to the side.

Her hand stinging slightly, Hermione hauled herself to her feet. "You _bastard_! I couldn't fucking _breathe_!"

Snape closed his eyes and despondently ducked his head.

"Because _you_ couldn't bloody be bothered to stop shouting at Harry!" she added, pacing in front of his kneeling form. She clenched and unclenched her fists and held them rigidly at her sides. It was all she could do to keep from hitting him again. In her head, she could see herself beating the man into a bloody pulp. "I was trying to tell you his potion wasn't stable, but you wouldn't fucking listen to me!"

"I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? You're _sorry_?" she hissed. "Well bully for you, Professor."

Hermione watched the man wince, and then gave an angry screech as she turned towards the door. As the rage rushing through her system began to quiet, she sank into a fit of silent sobs against the door. She could not understand why he would ignore her pleas as he had. How could his hatred for Harry run so deep that he could condemn her to suffer? Would he even have noticed her distress if Ernie had not called attention to it? Would he have let her die in the middle of his classroom?

Wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her robe, she peered back at the man on the floor. He was kneeling, as perfectly still and silent as a statue. A pained expression was on his face, and a nasty red mark was beginning to form across the side of his jaw. He had not yelled at her yet for striking him, nor had he even glanced in her direction since she had. He had been as close to death as she had been – from the way he looked now, it was likely that he had just come to that realization.

_Good_, she thought spitefully. She wanted him to suffer as she was. Perhaps now he would hold her life as dear to him as he held his own. She was not the only one responsible for keeping their bond a secret; she was not the only one who could end both of their existences with one mistake.

Hermione raised her hand to grab hold of the door handle. She wanted nothing more than to leave this room – to leave him there, wallowing in his own misery. Her hand soon dropped back into her lap, though, as she realized something held her rooted there in his presence. She wanted to know why.

"Why didn't you listen?" she whispered, breaking the horrible silence.

Severus flicked his eyes towards her. Almost an entire minute passed before he shook his head. "I could not hear you."

"Couldn't _hear_ me?" Her face wrinkled in disbelief. "I was _screaming_ at you in my head! You hear every goddamn thing I think, and you expect me to believe you couldn't hear me screaming?"

He sighed softly and dropped his eyes back to the ground. "I – I found a way…to block it."

"What are you talking about?" Her eyes narrowed considerably as she spent several seconds contemplating his last answer. Her mouth opened slightly in surprise. "You mean you've found a way to sever the connection?"

"No. Just to silence it."

"How?" she asked, immediately scrambling to her feet. "And why didn't you tell me?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I don't know."

"How _long_?" she cried, crossing her arms and bending over at the waist. "How long has it been since you figured it out?"

His posture sagged as he pinched his eyes shut. "A week."

"A _week_?" she squealed savagely. "Why the hell didn't you tell me? For an entire week, you've let me think you were in my head! I cringe every time my friends say anything against you, because I think you'll get angry and punish them for it. Or punish me. I've felt physically ill when Harry complains about you, because I _know _you'll punish him! You couldn't see fit to release me from at least_ that_ fear?"

"I did not think of that," he answered quietly as he dipped his head further. "For that, I am truly sorry."

"Yeah?" she sneered. "Well, so am I."

He glanced up at her in surprise, his eyes searching for her meaning.

Hermione sighed and dropped her shoulders. "You and Harry are a lot alike, you know that? You hate him; he hates you. Both of you get so focused on hating each other, that you don't care who else gets hurt. And stupidly, I've tried to change his mind about you, but there's no point to it, is there?

"I don't care anymore," she shook her head, turning towards the door. "Just leave me the hell out of it."

"Miss Grang –"

His appeal was cut off by Hermione slamming the door behind her as she stepped out into the hallway.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, scrambling to his feet from where he had been sitting. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she spat, heading towards the staircase.

"I am so sorry," he continued. "I never meant -"

She whirled around suddenly and glared at him. "Just leave me _alone_!"

Harry swallowed his apologies and stood frozen in place as he watched her sprint up the staircase. He turned around at the sound of a door opening, and grimaced at the sight of Snape staring at him with his arms crossed.

"I'm going, sir. I just wanted to know she was okay," he answered, ducking his head as he held out the flax seed jar. As the professor took it from him, Harry shrugged. "Guess I really _did_ fail that potion."

"It would appear that way," Severus snorted. He watched as the boy walked away in defeat, and then rolled his eyes and called out, "Potter."

Harry flinched at the sound of his surname and slowly turned around.

"It will take me most of the evening to neutralize the toxic effects of your concoction," he lazily explained. "If you hope to earn back any of the points for your dismal performance thus far this term, you would do well to report here at your regularly scheduled class time."

Harry's mouth dropped in absolute shock.

"Continue gaping like a fish, and I shall not hesitate to toss you in the Black Lake," Snape said with a cold glare. When the boy immediately snapped his mouth shut, he narrowed his eyes further. "Now get out of my sight before I change my mind."

Without a word, Potter nodded and tore up the stairs.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Are you sure you don't want to eat?" Ginny asked from the doorway.

Hermione groaned and shook her head against her pillow. "I'm not hungry."

The redhead raised an eyebrow and leaned against the door jamb. She stared at the girl sprawled across her bed for a minute before speaking. "Are you actually not hungry or are you just avoiding Harry? I heard about what happened, you know."

Hermione let out a long sigh and stared blankly at her bedpost. "Just go, Gin. I'm fine."

"Alright then – I'll sneak something back for you," Ginny responded with a shake of her head. She paused briefly before leaving. "If it makes you feel any better, Harry's afraid that Snape may opt to disembowel him tomorrow morning. And if it really takes all night to clean up like he claimed, there's probably reason to be concerned."

"_Professor_ Snape," the brunette corrected with a whisper several moments later. She then winced and curled into a ball. Harry was not the only one she wanted to avoid at supper. Snape would be there, too, presiding over the meal from the Head Table.

_If he's not still down there, moping about on the floor of his office_. Hermione sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around the pillow. She could not get the image of his face out of her head. At the time, she had thought the worst of him, but what if she had been wrong? She had been so afraid of dying like that – completely powerless with no hope of saving herself. The anger she felt afterwards had given her some semblance of control, and so she had latched onto that with spirit. She had accused him of being blinded by hatred, but what had she done?

_What's wrong with me?_ She had been angry before – yelling at Ron, Harry, or her parents; punching Malfoy; and even blackmailing Rita Skeeter – but nothing like this. She had never even considered ruining someone else's homework before. Even when she was upset with the boys, she had helped them to the best of her ability. And this was not just anyone's grade she had destroyed – it was Harry's, her best friend's. How could she have lashed out like that at someone she loved?

And Snape! Hermione grimaced at all the hateful things she had shouted at him. She had thrown more curse words at him today than she could even remember using in her entire life. She could have lost fifty points easily, just for her language alone. And she had hit him! Striking a teacher – that was likely to be expulsion, not point loss.

She blew out a deep breath and buried her face beneath her arm. She had been so afraid of him abusing their connection to punish her, yet the only points he had taken from her so far had been in that first Potions lesson – and he had given them back afterward. He had only been blocking her thoughts for a week, so she knew he had to have heard all of the jokes and spiteful comments people had made at his expense, but to her knowledge he had not been taking away points any more un-biasedly than usual. He knew about the sabotage, but had done nothing about it except save her own potion. She deserved to lose that grade, and yet all Snape had done was comment on her Slytherin tendencies.

Watching Harry suffer was punishment in itself, though. Not to mention the fiasco in Potions today was an indirect result of her actions. She had blamed Snape and Harry for what happened, but it was partly her fault, as well. Harry would have handled the professor's snide comments about his potion much better had he not spent the past week suffering Slytherin ridicule and cursing Snape's very existence. And Snape never backed down from a confrontation when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived, so why should she have expected any different?

In fact, she had never seen the man ignore provocation – except when it came to her.

Hermione rolled over onto her back, chewing on her lip as she stared at the underside of the maroon canopy. It seemed strange that he would allow her such behavior. Maybe he was letting it slide because he felt he had injured her enough already. He undoubtedly had, but Severus Snape was cold, and he detested weakness. Was he even capable of compassion? Or maybe he was worried that she could not take any more punishment from him – worried that one more nasty comment from him would send her over the edge, and end life for the both of them.

_As if_, she snorted. She could handle him yelling at her. She would almost prefer it, actually. As much as it had been a struggle for her to act 'normal' in class, it was highly off-setting to have Snape acting differently around her. It was easier to slip into her old routine when he was bitter and snarky, and it was easier to forget what had happened. When he was decent to her, or ignored her transgressions, it reminded her of why he was treating her that way.

_"He's not a nice guy, Hermione, and some day he's going to do something even you can't forgive him for."_

Harry's words had been torturing her for a week. She never believed Snape to be nice, but he did not deserve to be considered a monster. Even with everything he had done to her, she had forgiven him – or was nearly ready to forgive him. From day to day, her level of tolerance seemed to vary to where even she was not sure how she felt towards the man. She trusted him and did not hate him – at least, when she was not afraid. When panic and fear overtook her emotions, she could not think clearly, and Snape began to look rather a lot like the enemy.

She had been trying to work on controlling her fears – Occlumency was helping with that. The nightmares were coming with less frequency, and she could sleep through the night without the Dreamless Sleep. The only real times she had allowed the fear to overtake her had been today in class and after the Welcoming Feast when they had –

Hermione immediately lurched into a seated position. It had already been two weeks since the bond was renewed! If the magic followed the same pattern, it was likely to be wearing thin soon. Snape was going to have to touch her again.

"Oh God," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. She may have been considering forgiveness, but she certainly was not ready for that.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione slept through breakfast the next morning, courtesy of the Dreamless Sleep dose she had ingested. She had spent half an hour picking at the plate of food Ginny had brought her before giving up on it and on the day. She woke up with fifteen minutes to spare before Charms class, and since she had fallen asleep in her school uniform, she did not even bother changing.

Harry had shown up a few seconds before Flitwick began his lecture, so he only managed to toss her a weak smile before sagging into his seat beside Ron. She had eyed his rumpled clothes and sweaty brow with interest before devoting her full attention to the lesson.

When the diminutive professor dismissed the class an hour later, she quickly caught up with the two boys as they walked to lunch. Harry glanced at her worriedly, but relaxed when she gave him a small smile. He opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly shook her head.

"I know you're sorry, Harry," she said quietly. "And I am, too. Shall we call it even?"

Harry gave a small laugh and ducked his head. "I nearly killed you, and all you did was snap at me. If you wanna call us even, I won't stop you."

"As if you could," Ron mumbled. When the two of them looked at him oddly, he shrugged. "As if he could stop you, I mean. You're kind of a force to be reckoned with, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes in amusement as Harry gave a laugh. "So where exactly have you been, Harry? You look like you've just spent an hour looking after a blast-ended skrewt."

"Two-and-a-half hours actually," the dark-haired boy answered. "And it wasn't a blast-ended skrewt, it was Snape."

"Close enough," Ron muttered. "I think I'd take the skrewt."

"Why were you with Professor Snape?" Hermione asked, ignoring the jibe.

"I thought Ginny told you," he answered. When she shook her head, he explained, "Snape's letting me earn back some points, strangely enough. He had me brew the potion we did last week, starting from the point of stasis."

Her mouth dropped open and she stopped immediately in her tracks. When the boys noticed she was no longer with them, they turned around. Harry laughed at her expression. "I know! I couldn't believe it either. I don't think I slept at all last night because I was so worried it was some nasty trick of his."

"I was still pretty sure he was gonna use your organs for potion ingredients when you left breakfast this morning," Ron added.

"I was too, actually," Harry nodded. "But apparently Professor McGonagall is accusing him of sabotaging the Quidditch team by failing me. At least that's what he claimed. He's giving me the chance just to shut her up since he's sure Slytherin's going to take the Cup anyway."

"Fat chance of that," Ron laughed. "Though, he'll probably just fail you out of spite when they lose."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief and started walking towards the Great Hall. As the boys fell in behind her, she felt a gentle presence at the edge of her mind. Slamming down her Occlumency shields, she turned her head sharply towards the left.

"I apologize, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated with a smile, holding his hands up. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's alright, sir," she answered as the Headmaster greeted the two boys.

"I was wondering, Miss Granger, if you might have time for a visit to my office this evening."

She narrowed her eyes in response, but nodded.

The elder wizard gave a dip of his head and turned to leave. "Harry, Mr. Weasley – do enjoy your meal. Miss Granger, I will see you after supper. I do so like mint truffles."

As he disappeared into the Great Hall, Harry turned to her and cocked his head. "What's that about?"

"Don't know," she lied as the three of them stepped across the threshold and made their way towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes flicked towards the Head Table where Snape was steadfastly ignoring her presence. She had a pretty darn good idea in mind of what the visit to Dumbledore's office might entail.

"Maybe your parents sent you something," Ron supplied with a grin, breaking her thoughts. "It _is_ your birthday on Saturday."

Hermione felt a sudden pang of emotion at his suggestion. He could have punched her in the stomach, and it would have hurt less. Blinking back tears, she forced out a small smile and shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Mint truffles."

Hermione sighed as the gargoyle stepped aside to allow her to pass onto the stair. She schooled her features as the staircase slowly ascended beneath her feet. When stood facing the large wooden doors, she gathered her courage and confidently knocked. Upon hearing a voice bid her entrance, she slowly pushed open the door and slipped into the large room.

Surprisingly enough, the Headmaster's desk stood vacant. The only current inhabitant of the room stood near the fireplace, staring at her with a raised eyebrow.

She cleared her throat and gestured towards the desk. "I thought he would be present if we were meeting here."

Snape shook his head and crossed his arms. "Minerva is supervising a detention this evening, so I had to resort to extreme measures."

"Ah," she responded, shifting nervously on her feet. She frowned, staring at the floor before glancing back up at him. "Professor, about what happened yesterday – I really do apol –"

"Don't," he hissed quietly. "You were well within your rights."

Hermione let her apology trail off into silence and then took a deep breath. She crossed over to the fireplace and stared at the tin of floo powder expectantly. When Snape then stalked over to an armchair, she looked at him in confusion. "We're not going to your office?"

"No," he answered, taking a seat. "The Headmaster shall be away most of the evening."

"Oh." She hesitated for a minute by the fire before moving to sit in the armchair across from him.

Severus leaned an elbow on the armrest and stared at her pensively. After a few minutes, he leaned back and rested his hands on his lap. "I should have considered my words to you more carefully in class, and I should not have delayed in informing you of my discovery."

"Obviously," she muttered, shifting her eyes to the fire.

"I will not allow this to happen again," he stated forcefully. He leaned forward and waited until the girl met his meaningful gaze. "You have my word, Miss Granger. It will not happen again."

She could tell by the steely look in his eyes that he meant it, and that it would not happen. There was no doubt in her mind that he would keep his promise and do everything in his power to keep her from harm. He was even attempting to reduce the tension between Harry and himself, by allowing the boy to improve his class standing. If he and Harry minimized their battles, she would not get caught up in the crossfire. Relief trickled through her at the knowledge that she would be safe in his classroom. With that thought in mind, she nodded and crossed her arms as she looked at his shoes. After a minute's silence, her curiosity got the best of her.

"How did you do it? How did you silence it?"

He sucked in a large breath, pulling back from her as he considered his response. Eventually he settled on the most direct answer. "I attempted the method you've utilized in your Occlumency practice."

"Really?" she exclaimed, as her eyes shot to his face.

He nodded, and then continued, "While focusing my magic, I was able to perform a silencing spell on the connection."

"A _silencing spell_?" Hermione cried, leaning forward in her chair. "It was _that_ easy?"

"_Easy_?" he scoffed in disbelief. His eyes hardened into a glare. "I thought my bloody head was going to explode, and you think it _easy_?"

"Sorry," she muttered, dropping her eyes to the floor. "I didn't mean to imply that it wasn't difficult. I just meant that…that the concept itself was rather… not complicated. In theory, I guess – but theory and reality generally aren't remotely similar –"

"Do you always babble on unnecessarily?" Snape interrupted with a raised brow.

"Usually only when I'm apologizing," Hermione answered with a weak smile, which soon disappeared into a contemplative frown. "Can you turn it back on?"

"Yes," Severus responded slowly. "'Finite Incantatum' apparently works to cancel it."

"So if I need you to turn it back on, you can do it?"

His eyes tightened as he watched her fiddle with the edge of her sleeve. He sighed and looked at the wall. "I do not imagine that you would wish me to leave it permanently un-silenced."

She hesitantly raised her gaze to his face and shook her head.

"I am able to silence and un-silence your thoughts at will," he continued, "but seeing as I am not psychic, I would be incapable of determining when you… _need_ me…to hear you."

Her face fell further into a scowl. "You're saying it's an all-or-nothing thing, then?"

"Unless you wish me to randomly switch on and off all day, every day in the small hopes I catch you in a moment of need," he snapped, glaring at nothing in particular. "Seeing as it's so easy and all."

"Don't be ridiculous, sir," she huffed, leaning back against her chair. "Couldn't there be a way to signal you or something?"

Snape raised an eyebrow as he finally met her eyes. "What would you suggest – bearing in mind that anything audible would be absolutely pointless."

Hermione chewed her lip as she bent forward in thought. "You said you used your mental magic to essentially cast a spell, right?"

"Yes."

"So couldn't I do the same thing? Mentally cast a spell over the connection?"

He took in a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. "And just what particular charm were you thinking of using?"

She gave a small shrug. "What about the Patronus charm?"

His eyes widened at the suggestion, and he immediately began thinking over the possibility. After several seconds had passed, he blinked and crossed his arms. "Your reasoning?"

"Well," she began slowly, "it's a visual cue, isn't it? We can use them to send messages and warnings under normal situations, and I don't think it would be harmful to you – unless you're secretly a dementor. If that's the case, sir, then we have bigger problems."

Severus gave a small snort and then fixed her with a critical gaze. "Do you feel that you are capable of doing that? I have it on good authority that you were experiencing difficulties in producing a corporeal patronus."

She winced at the memory of her failed attempts in Remus's class during the first week. Shaking those thoughts from her head, she stood from her chair. Mentally pulling forth a string of happy memories from her childhood, she slipped her wand from her pocket and confidently declared, "_Expecto patronum_!"

As the silver otter cheekily danced about the office, Hermione turned to face the seated wizard with a smug grin on her face. "Capable enough for you?"

"I don't recall asking for insolence," he uttered with an impassive stare.

The girl rolled her eyes and cancelled the spell.

"That's all well and good, Miss Granger," he stated blandly, "but the real question is whether or not you can do it up here."

She watched him tap the side of his temple, and then shrugged her shoulders. "There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and let out a long breath midway through her rounds the following night.

"Am I bothering you that much?" Jason asked, noticing her pained expression. "Sorry for talking."

Glancing over at the boy in surprise, she shook her head. "No, it's not you. I've just had a really bad headache today."

"Oh, sorry." He turned his attention to the hallway ahead of them. Several seconds of silence passed before he offered up a mumbled explanation. "I just get talkative when I'm tired. It keeps me awake, and I still have to write an entire essay for Transfiguration."

"It's alright," she responded, giving him a strained smile. "Honestly. It's actually a lot better than it was."

_And it only took fifteen hours and three headache-relief potions_. Hermione sighed and glanced down an empty corridor. She had spent hours the night before working on sending a mental patronus and had awakened in the morning with the feeling that her head was about to burst. Snape had warned her against pushing it too far in one setting, but she had refused to stop until she had nearly perfected the task. The patronus she had managed to send across the connection only accomplished a brief flickering in its corporeal form before disappearing, but he could still see the silver wisps of her less successful attempts. She had been paying for it today, but it was more than worth it. She now had a way to signal Snape if she ever needed his assistance, and that made her feel somewhat more comfortable in her own skin. Her privacy would no longer interfere with her safety.

A noisy yawn from her companion brought her attention back to their present task. So far they had sent three students back to the dormitory minus a handful of points, but the night seemed to be rather quiet. Quiet enough that she felt something was sure to go wrong.

And soon it did. As they were rounding the corner towards the staircase to the seventh floor, Hermione nearly cried out as a spasm rippled across her lower spine.

_Oh, damn it, damn it, damn it!_ She let out a strained breath and gripped the stair railing with such force that her knuckles turned white. Within a matter of a few seconds, however, the spasm passed and the pain mellowed into a dull throbbing. Luckily, Jason had been in the midst of another large yawn and had not heard her gasp or noticed her tense stance.

Hermione felt her stomach drop as they started up the steps. It was only going to get worse if she continued to ignore it. She could not go through that pain again. It had to be taken care of now, and she needed Professor Snape. First, though, she had to get rid of her partner.

"Erm, Jason?" she ventured, breaking the silence of the staircase. "Is your Transfiguration essay due tomorrow?"

The light-haired boy glanced back at her and nodded enthusiastically. "Right after breakfast."

"Let me guess – you haven't even started it yet."

A light flush appeared on his cheeks as he shook his head.

_Typical. _ Hermione faked an exasperated sigh. "Go on, then. I can finish rounds on my own."

"Are you sure?" he asked in surprise. "I mean, I thought we always had to be in twos."

"Technically we do, I suppose," she shrugged. "But you need to get that essay done. If you don't, or if you fall asleep, Professor McGonagall's going to be upset. We're already down a prefect for another two weeks. Besides, there's only one more floor to cover. I'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure about it…"

"I am," she responded firmly, and pointed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "Go."

Jason flashed her a quick smile and tore up the stairs. Within seconds he had disappeared around the corner and out of sight. Sighing, Hermione rested her head against the cold stone of the wall. She did not want to do this. She did not even want to think about it.

_I have to do this…I have to do this…_ Scrounging up every last ounce of courage she could manage, she closed her eyes and focused on their connection. She mentally cast a patronus and then sank against the wall with tears forming in her eyes.

**"Miss Granger, if you continue foolishly over-taxing yourself, there will be no amount of potion that can relieve your headache. Let it be until you've recovered."**

Hermione whimpered and wiped her face with her sleeve_. 'Professor, it…it's starting.'_

There was a few seconds' pause before his voice slid across her conscience again. **"Where are you?"**

_'Seventh floor, doing rounds.'_

**"Are you alone?"**

She shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself. _'Yes. I sent Jason back to do homework.'_

**"Go to the Room of Requirement. I shall be there shortly."**

Letting out a shaky breath, Hermione nodded and pulled herself to her feet. As she slowly made her way towards the empty span of hallway where the room was located, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms and willed herself not to cry. When she reached the appropriate location, she stopped in the middle of the corridor and stared at the wall with severe apprehension. She did not dare walk back and forth in front of the space for she was afraid of what would lie behind the door.

She could feel the panic beginning to creep in as she stood there in the deserted hallway. Taking in a deep breath, she worked to combat the terror of the memories that were trying to surface. She knew she could not let it if she had any hope of getting through the rest of the night with her sanity intact. Closing her eyes, she focused on clearing the pain and fear from her mind.

"Miss Granger."

The voice snapped her from her introspection, and she flung open her eyes to meet the concerned gaze of Professor Snape. He cleared his throat and gestured to the door he was holding open for her.

Hermione swallowed back a nervous gulp of air and hesitantly stepped across the threshold. The room was not very large – smaller than her bedroom at home had been – but was cheerily lit. The soft tones of the walls and décor were meant to be calming, she was sure, but the mere presence of the bed in the center of the room was foreboding enough to shatter any semblance of comfort the room provided.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she eyed the bed, and she visibly jumped as the door shut behind Snape.

"How much pain are you in?" he asked as he stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the bed.

She let her gaze shift up to his face and shook her head. "Not much. It hurt a great deal more a little while ago, but it's calmed down some since."

Traces of fear were evident in his expression as he posed his next question. "How long before it becomes unmanageable?"

"You mean like last time?" she asked, her voice squeaking. "Two days, perhaps? It just started, and I knew I couldn't ignore it this time."

Severus nodded as he let out a small breath of relief and ran a hand through his hair. He began unfastening his teaching robes, and extracted two small vials from his pocket before tossing the garment over the back of the armchair that the room had provided.

Hermione looked up in trepidation as he held out the first flask for her. She gingerly accepted the glass container filled with the dull grey potion. "Was I right about what this does?"

"You were," he responded politely. "With any luck, it will keep you from feeling any pain during… the encounter."

"Here's hoping," she whispered, tossing back the cool liquid. She coughed slightly at the chalky taste and grimaced as she ran her tongue across her teeth. As she swallowed the contents of the second vial he gave her, she made another disgusted face. "Can't you make anything that doesn't taste like dirt or death?"

The wizard gave a small smirk, but made no verbal reply as he banished the two ampoules back to his lab.

As a strange tingling sensation spread between her legs, Hermione gave a surprised gasp and glanced up at him with wide eyes.

"I take it from your expression that the potion is working," he said quietly. "It will only last for a particular length of time, so I suggest we not waste it."

She gulped nervously and nodded as she removed her school robes. Letting out a long breath, she shakily moved towards the bed and tentatively perched on the edge. As Snape moved towards her, panic began to rise in her chest, and images of approaching Death Eaters flashed across her thoughts. The walls seemed to close in on her, and the adrenaline coursing through her system was shouting at her to flee.

"If you could lie back," he instructed as he came to stand in front of her.

Hermione whimpered and shook her head. "I d-don't think I can do this."

"You have to," Severus snapped, pushing on his forehead. "There isn't exactly a choice on the matter."

"I know that!" she hissed bitterly.

He sighed loudly and threw his gaze to the ceiling. "Try to clear your mind, Miss Granger. Close your eyes, if you have to. I will make this as quick and painless as I can."

She gave a muted groan in response, but scooted father onto the bed and laid back against the pillows. When she heard the clanking of his belt and then felt the mattress depress with his added weight, she let out a small squeak and slammed her eyelids shut. She worked feverishly to achieve an empty mentalscape as his cold fingers ghosted the sides of her thighs while he pushed up her skirt and gently removed her knickers.

As he parted her legs and moved into position, Hermione wrapped her arms around her chest and bit down on the edge of her lip. A second later, he pushed inside of her, and a strangled cry escaped her body.

"Pain?" Snape immediately froze and then searched her face in concern.

"N-no," she stammered, continuing to squeeze her eyes shut as she shook her head. "It doesn't hurt really. It's just weird – like an uncomfortable pressure."

He grunted softly in understanding and hesitantly began moving again. While his thrusting continued, she tried to ignore the odd sensations and somehow managed to keep the traumatic memories at bay. Time seemed to drag on, and eventually she was brave enough to open her eyes. Upon seeing that his own eyes were closed and there was a strangely peaceful look upon his face, she quickly turned her head to face the wall as her stomach roiled in disgust.

After what seemed like several minutes, there was a pleasured groan from above her and his spilled seed trickled out from between her legs. She took in a tight breath as he withdrew from her body and pushed off of the bed. When she finally summoned the courage to look at him, he had fully re-dressed and guilt was clearly displayed upon his features.

"I will finish your rounds tonight," he stated, dropping his eyes to the floor as he held out her pink knickers. "You may retire to your dormitory."

Hermione nodded as she sat up and collected her undergarments. When Snape left a few seconds later, she quickly stepped into them and then immediately jumped to grab her robes. Blinking away tears, she hurriedly fastened them and then slipped out of the Room of Requirement.

Hastily she strode through the darkened hallways and staircases until she reached the Fat Lady's portrait. After speaking the password, she climbed through the hole and passed through the common room before either Ron or Harry even noticed her appearance. When she entered the prefects' room in the girls' dormitory, she gave a muffled response to Ginny's and Mattie's greetings before locking herself in the bathroom.

After stripping out of her clothes, she started the shower and then stepped into the hot spray. A second or two later, she sank down to the bottom of the tub and began to cry.


	28. Birthday Blues

**A/N: So instead of spending the weekend doing the many things I needed to get done for this week...I worked on this. You're welcome, because I'll be paying for it all week with the sacrifice of sleep and sanity.**

**Thanks again for all of the reviews - Chapter 27 was, as of yet, the most-reviewed chapter. Yay. Shout-outs again to those who reviewed: Phoenixica24, ineverdothis, littlekat1010, vampirela69, earley1991, hnwhitlock2000, MCannon5887, BlooDsucKkerR69, xSiriusxstalkerx, KittyPimms, woodshark, semicharmed, Inez Stringos, Startled Boris, Zoek80, melonka, Lacey-Mae Emelia, Angelwells, MissLizet, memorieslost05, Mel, Sev01, AllyZ, Veggemite, Lil Tine, Stacy Vorosco, La muta larmo, Lyra Lupin, Lover of Fantasy, Eebaral Knight, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, Coolnetta, silverose29, alicehs, tennis14321432, joanna-archer, Seph7, Hello, Slinkiee, sharNZ, cinnamin, severus49, Jinx452, Hazel08, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, and Sezao1. And to WaterBendingBabe, I suppose, since you did text me your review.  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 28**

Severus awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat. Within seconds, he lurched out of bed, flying towards his bathroom with just enough time to kneel before his supper reappeared. When he had expelled the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, he wiped the sleeve of his nightshirt across his mouth and shakily stood. He gripped both sides of the sink basin and stared at the darkened reflection in the mirror. As his pounding heart began slowing to its normal pace, he tried to push the nightmare from his thoughts.

The dream was one that had often plagued his nights when he was younger. Borne from an early childhood memory, the dream would trap him in the dingy upstairs corridor of his home in Spinner's End during one of the worst of his father's drunken rages. He would pound endlessly on the door of his parents' bedroom, crying himself hoarse as he listened to his mother's screams. He could hear everything from inside the room – every slap, every tearing of her nightdress, every angry curse, and every sickening squeak of the bed springs.

After what seemed like an eternity in hell, the sadistic squeaking would cease, and her screams would dissolve into painful sobs. The door would soon be yanked open, and he would fall gracelessly onto his elbows across the threshold of the room. Blinding pain would shoot across his scalp as his father grabbed a fistful of his hair, hauling him to his feet before tossing him against the opposite wall of the hallway.

'Out of my way, you worthless brat!' Tobias Snape would shout at him before punching the wall and storming down the stairs.

The front door would slam, rattling the poorly crafted interior walls, and Severus would immediately scramble to his feet. He would catch only a glimpse of his mother weeping softly as she lay naked and beaten upon the wrinkled, faded bedspread before the bedroom door would shut seemingly of its own accord.

The memory had haunted his dreams frequently throughout his schooling years. In reality, Eileen Snape had stopped protesting against her husband's cruel treatment by the time her son had started primary school. In fact, from then on she had stopped showing any and all forms of emotion – there had been no more tears, no smiles, and definitely no loving embraces. Though his mother had chosen to take the abuse in expectant silence – and had done so until her early demise – Severus had heard her screams well into his adulthood.

Every occurrence of the nightmare played out exactly as it had happened so many years before. This time, however, the dream had been different. As his small body had again bounced off of the wall and subsequently fallen to the floor, the angry face that stared down at him was no longer his father's, but his own. In a similar fashion, the crumpled body in the middle of the tarnished brass bed was no longer that of his mother. Instead, it had been Hermione Granger lying there, broken and bleeding as she curled herself into protective ball.

Severus sighed sorrowfully and splashed cold water onto his face.

_The sins of the father..._ He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold glass of the mirror. He had always hated his father with every ounce of his being, and yet it seemed he was destined to become him. The girl had lain beneath him, writhing in pain and screaming bloody murder, and still he had found himself coming to a pleasurable completion. Tonight, there had been minimal resistance on her part, and though Hermione's repulsion had been evident, her subdued acceptance of the situation had spurred the memories of his mother. And yet, he found that his body had betrayed him once again.

Severus Tobias Snape was as much of a monster as was his middle-namesake.

A soft mewing sound caught his attention, and he snapped his focus back to his present surroundings. Curiosity overcame his current bout of self-hatred, and he glanced about himself as he stepped back into his dark bedroom. A small scratching noise accompanied the mews, and they became louder as he neared the door on the other side of his bed. As he pulled open the door, the now-familiar ginger cat darted in past his legs and quickly launched itself atop the disheveled bedclothes.

Snape frowned at the empty staircase for a brief moment before closing the door and turning towards the invading feline.

"What – you were able to let yourself into my office and into my private passageway, but _this_ door foiled you?"

The cat stared at the man challengingly, and then raised his back leg over his head as he began licking his rump.

"I thought I sent you upstairs," Severus added with a raise of his eyebrow. When the creature did nothing but continue its determined preening, he let out an exasperated puff of air. "You came back down here just to wash your arse, is that it? How considerate of you."

He gave a dejected look towards the open bathroom door and shook his head. A second later, he climbed back into his bed, shooting Crookshanks a glare as he yanked the covers out from underneath the feline.

"Bloody nuisance," he grumbled.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Didn't you take a shower last night?" Mattie asked as she pulled a brush through her damp, golden locks.

Hermione paused in the doorway of the bathroom with her armful of clothes. "Erm, I thought it might help wake me up."

"Oh," the older girl shrugged. "I suppose it might, yeah."

Ginny, however, glanced at her in concern. "You didn't sleep well last night?"

"I slept alright," she responded quietly. She then faked a yawn and gestured with her head towards the shower. "Just still tired."

As the redhead nodded her understanding, Hermione shut the bathroom door behind her and sighed as she dropped her clothes to the floor. Surprisingly, she _had_ slept relatively well after she finally managed to pull herself together and get out of the shower. Her tears had been limited to her time in the shower, and she had explained away her puffy, red eyes by claiming that soap had dripped into them.

She had been saved from further questioning by the sudden appearance of her familiar and his subsequent expulsion of a rather large and exceptionally slimy furball in the middle of their floor. Crookshanks had seemed rather pleased with himself as he listened to the cries of disgust and watched Hermione clear the mess away with a quick _Evanesco_. The cat had curled up against her side when she crawled into bed, and had stayed there until she had fallen asleep. When she had awoken, however, he had again disappeared to some unknown location. Off-handedly, she wondered where it was that he went – he had not spent this much time away from Gryffindor tower since Sirius had been lurking about the grounds during her third year.

Sighing, she switched on the showerhead and stripped out of her pajamas. As she stepped into the spray, her gaze unconsciously swept down to her legs. She winced slightly at the faint red marks covering the inside of her thighs. Her stomach dropped at the memory of how crazed she had been the night before, attempting to scrub away all evidence of Snape having touched her. She had felt so disgusting afterwards that she had not allowed herself to leave the shower until well after her fingers had become wrinkled and the skin of her thighs had become raw.

Even now, as she determinedly worked shampoo into her mass of hair, she wanted nothing more than to wash herself free of her memories.

_And not only those regarding the bonding_, Hermione mournfully surmised as she closed her eyes and let the water pound against her face. Since Ron had reminded her of her upcoming birthday, she had been frequently thinking of her parents. Before she had started her magical education, birthdays had been a special event in the Granger household. Her parents had always closed their practice if September 19th had fallen on a weekday, and would spend the entire day with her if she was not in school. They would go to the park or the zoo, get ice cream, or spend hours playing board games. When it came time for dinner, she and her mother would put on fancy dresses and her father would take the both of them to an expensive restaurant.

The tradition ended for her, though, when she boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Her parents could not exactly take her out for the day, so instead they would send a lengthy letter along with her gifts. They would still dress up and dine out every year, celebrating what they both claimed to be 'the best day of them all.' This year, however, there would be no reservation made under the name Granger, and tomorrow there would be no letter for her at breakfast.

Two tears joined the water streaming down her face. After a moment of reflection, she took in a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and told herself it was time to face the music of the day.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus frowned in thought as he made his way towards the staffroom for the weekly Saturday morning meeting. There was no doubt in his mind that Lupin would deem it necessary to mention Miss Granger's odd behavior again. The girl had been doing well enough until recently, when she had become more withdrawn. While he certainly could understand why, he also was aware that he was not the only one to have noticed her sudden turn of melancholy. In fact, during dinner he had overheard Professors Sprout and Vector discussing her apparent lack of attention during their Friday classes.

"Severus," Remus greeted him with a hesitant grin and held open the staffroom door.

The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes and stole past his colleague without a word.

Lupin gave a soft sigh and followed him into the room. He took up the chair beside the man and shook his head good-naturedly. "You seem to be in high spirits today."

"Don't be ridiculous," Snape glared as he folded his arms across his chest. "Pay attention, mutt. We wouldn't want you to miss an opportunity to fawn over the Headmaster."

The werewolf was about to offer a reply when a withering glare from McGonagall silenced him. Dumbledore had started speaking already, and everyone else had turned their attention in his direction. Twenty minutes had passed before Pomona broached the subject which Severus was most dreading.

"It's about Miss Granger, Headmaster," the plump witch stated. "She had seemingly improved – nearly back to her old self, I thought – but I'm afraid she's suffered some setback. She was so distracted in class yesterday, poor Neville had to pull her out of the way of the Snapping Dragonlillies before she lost a finger!"

_Poor Neville, indeed_. Snape scoffed, though inwardly he was concerned by the information. He had not suspected that her performance had been so affected. If she did not improve by the start of the next week, Tuesday's practical Potions session would be a nightmare to get her through unscathed.

"Some might declare that fair turnabout, Pomona," he smirked haughtily, hiding his anxiety from the rest of the staff. "Merlin only knows how many times the roles were reversed in my classroom. Longbottom's lucky he doesn't owe the girl a life debt already."

"Hush, Severus," Minerva instructed. "That isn't the point."

He rolled his eyes as Lupin cleared his throat.

"Actually, I believe I have an explanation for Hermione's apparent relapse."

Snape barely managed to school his shocked expression and control the speed at which his head spun towards the man beside him. Logically, he knew there was no possibility of Lupin knowing of the bond he shared with the girl, but it did nothing to calm the sudden pounding that had begun in his chest.

"I spoke briefly with Harry after yesterday's class," the Defense instructor explained. "He believes her recent distraction has more to do with the date than anything else –"

_The date?_ Severus narrowed his eyes_. Was the boy a complete idiot? What would that have to do with anything?_

"—Hermione Granger comes of age today, as it were. He and Ron Weasley think she's worried she won't hear from her parents since they've gone into hiding."

Snape's eyes widened suddenly in surprise before he slammed them shut. He ignored the murmurs of agreement that resounded about the room, focusing instead on the shame he felt. _Today was her birthday? Why didn't I know this? Why didn't I think to even find out when her bloody birthday was?_

He reopened his eyes, leaned back against his chair, and stared blankly out the window. He had not considered anyone's birthday since Lily had died, and even before that, hers had been the only one he had cared to remember. It had been during one of their earliest conversations that they had discovered they had been born during the same month. When they had become better friends, he had often teased her about being three weeks younger than he was. That really had been the only thing he could hold over her regarding the matter, since his birthdays had been just as bleak and miserable as the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. Hers, on the other hand, had always been joyous occasions, filled with cake, presents, and friends.

He had been invited to several of her parties before their time at Hogwarts had begun, but after the embarrassment of having to sit amongst all her primary school friends, watching as they showered her with brilliantly-wrapped gifts that he could never have dreamed of affording, he vowed never to return. He would make pitiful excuses, and then wait behind a snow bank until her other friends had left before presenting her with his shoddy, hand-made card. Of course, Lily had always accepted his card with a smile and would then grab his hand, tugging him along to see the snow fort she and her friends had built in the backyard.

It pained him now to think of how much his cards had made her smile during the first five years of their magical schooling. There were no longer any other friends for her to celebrate with, and her parents were the only ones to send her anything through the post. He remembered quite vividly how Lily's face would brighten at the sight of the school's owl swooping down with her package from home.

Drawing himself from his recollections, he realized that Potter's assumption was likely not far off the mark – at least for some of Miss Granger's misery. From what he had seen of the girl's memories, the Grangers were rather a lot like the Evanses. He had never bothered to notice before, but Hermione was probably just as accustomed to her parents' attention and correspondence as Lily had been.

Severus sighed, admitting that the girl deserved something to make the day a little brighter. Especially since the Gryffindor Quidditch team was having another day of try-outs, and the two twits would likely expect her presence at the pitch all afternoon. For someone who was not an extreme fan of the sport, it was undoubtedly a miserable way to spend her birthday.

_Of course this means you'll have to buy her a present_. His upper lip curled in mild disgust as he considered the prospect of shopping for a teenage girl. He was currently at a loss as to what she would like, but he did have a very good notion of where to start his quest.

Glancing up at the clock, Snape pinched his lips together with impatience. If he had any hope of returning before dark, he would need to leave soon. He turned his gaze to the Headmaster with forceful determination, as though by staring at the man, he could speed up the process. Luck appeared to be on his side, however, for Albus was already in the midst of adjourning the meeting.

When the others began to rise from the table, Severus immediately stood and made for the exit. He was halfway down the hall when he heard his name being shouted. He spun to view Minerva bustling after him.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she caught up to him.

"Out," he growled.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes and huffed. "You weren't paying attention to the meeting at all."

Snape did not waste his breath trying to deny it and glanced at her with indifference. "Did I miss something of import?"

"Well, no," she shook her head before her eyes took on a serious demeanor. "Is there something else troubling her?"

He sighed and stared at the floor. "More than likely."

The witch shifted uncomfortably for a second. "Is there something you would like me to do?"

"No," he answered honestly as he began to turn around. "Now if you would excuse me –"

"Severus, _where_ are you going?" she asked again.

Without bothering to turn around, he threw his response over his shoulder. "Out!"

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione fought hard to hide her disappointment when the scraggly-looking Weasley family owl plopped a package down in her nearly untouched bowl of porridge. As she pulled it out of the mush and wiped it off, she shot the bird a look of sheer exasperation.

"Sorry 'bout that," Ron said with a grimace as he sat down beside her. "Stupid bird."

"It's alright," she shrugged. "Since when does your mum send me packages?"

"Well, it's your birthday, isn't it?" He gestured to the box in her hand. "She's been fretting over you non-stop since Dumbledore told them about the attack on your house. I'm actually surprised she waited until your birthday to send anything."

As a small smile appeared on her face, she quietly began tearing into the simple, brown wrapping paper. A short while later, she laughed as she pulled out a knitted hat and scarf.

"Maybe she thought you deserved a decent set after all those misshapen ones you made," Ron grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but giggled anyway. "I didn't hear any complaints from Dobby."

"Well, he is rather strange."

"Shut it," she responded, giving him a gentle shove.

Ron laughed and then withdrew a small, slender object from his pocket. He blushed briefly as he passed it to her. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."

She smiled widely as she unwrapped the item in her hands, giving a small gasp as she revealed the thin metal bookmark decorated with dainty bluebirds that flitted about the painted pink flowers.

The redhead ducked his head nervously. "I know it's not much, but it won't ever fall out and –"

"It's perfect," she interrupted, throwing her arms around his neck. A half second later, she froze as she realized what she had just done. With a wince, she quickly pulled away from him and focused her attention on the mess of porridge in front of her. She cleared her throat in an attempt to change the subject. "So, where's Harry?"

"Hiding," he mumbled, poking at his own bowl of food. "I let him stay in the Prefect's room last night. You wouldn't believe how many people are bothering him over the try-outs. He didn't finish with the Chasers til real late, so he's having a bit of a lie-in before this afternoon."

Hermione nodded in understanding. Ginny had been so exhausted after her run last night that this morning she had barely managed a muffled 'Birfday, Mione' before falling asleep again.

"You're not eating," Ron stated, finally daring to look at her.

"Neither are you," she countered with a sigh.

He shrugged. "Too nervous to eat."

The girl gave him a sympathetic smile and briefly squeezed his arm. "You'll be great. I know it."

"I've looked over the sign-up sheet, and the only one I'm really worried about is McLaggen." He sighed and gave his porridge another stab. "The only reason they let me on the team last year was because he was stupid enough to eat doxy eggs."

"He's an idiot, Ron. You'll be fine."

"Speak of the devil," he muttered gloomily, gesturing towards the doors of the Great Hall where the good-looking seventh-year had just appeared. "You wouldn't happen to have any doxy eggs on you, would you? I could slip it in his breakfast."

"Ronald!" she hissed, shaking her head. "That's cheating!"

"It was just a joke, Hermione," he grinned as he stood.

"You have to earn the spot the right way," she continued with a harsh stare.

Ron rolled his eyes, beginning to walk away. "Which is why I'm going to go grab Harry and see if he'll help me get in some extra practice. I'll see you this afternoon. You are coming, right?"

Hermione sighed and nodded. She did not have anything else to do that day, and she could just as easily read in the bleachers as she could in the common room. At least there she would see her friends and she would not have to spend her birthday alone.

Glancing up, she noticed that Cormac had stopped Ron on his way out of the hall. She bit her lip nervously as she watched her friend's face flush red and gave a silent prayer that he kept his temper in check. A split second later, Ron stormed out of the hall, leaving a smirking McLaggen behind. When the handsome older boy sent a flirtatious wink in her direction, she stiffened uncomfortably, quickly gathered her gifts, and fled the room.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

A few hours later, Hermione slung a bag full of books over her shoulder and quietly strode out towards the Quidditch pitch. Before making her way into the stands, she decided she would at least say hello to Harry while he was not busy running the trials. She spotted him beneath the stands, where he was talking to Ron. As she got nearer to them, she caught snippets of their conversation.

"You can't let him on the team, Harry. Even if he does beat me, you can't let him on the team!"

The dark-haired boy sighed and shook his head. "I can't do that, Ron. Whoever does the best gets the position, fair and square."

Ron groaned and kicked a rock. "But he's a complete prat!"

"Well, if he can block the Quaffle long enough for me to catch the Snitch, that's all that matters," Harry muttered. "We need to win this year, Ron. If he does better than you, it's him. If you do better than him, it's you. Or maybe it'll be one of the others who signed up if they do better than the both of you."

"Ugh!" Ron hissed. "First he goes after the Keeper position, and now he's after Hermione!"

Hermione froze and felt her stomach flip.

"What do you mean he's after her?" Harry asked with a raised brow.

The redhead shook his head angrily. "He grabbed me at breakfast this morning, telling me it wasn't personal or anything about the try-outs. And then the stupid slug asked if I could introduce her to him. He said he wouldn't mind getting to know her on a first name basis, if I knew what that meant. Of course I bloody know what he means! I don't like it, Harry!"

"I don't like it either, Ron, but there's nothing I can do. Hermione's smart – she's not going to go for a tosser like him, no matter how much he fancies her."

"But what if she does? She went for Krum, didn't she? McLaggen's better looking than me, and he's rich! If he knew it was her birthday, he would have bought her something much nicer than a stupid bookmark!"

Harry frowned. "Didn't she like your present?"

"Well, she acted like it," he shrugged, "but how could she have really? It's a bloody bookmark!"

"And it's Hermione," Harry responded with a pointed look, before glancing down at his watch. "I'm gonna have to go, Ron, but you need to get a hold of yourself. If you don't get your head in the game, McLaggen _will_ beat you. And as for Hermione, if you like her that much, ask her out yourself."

Hermione did not hear Ron's response for she had set off on a dead sprint from the pitch. Her stomach was twisting terribly, and hot tears were slipping down her cheeks. She did not stop running until she had reached a large tree, where she tossed her bag to the ground and collapsed against the tree trunk.

She had known for some time that Ron had feelings for her, but the desperation in his voice made her feel sick. Why did it all have to happen now? It was like fate was playing the cruelest of tricks upon her. No one, besides Victor, had ever shown interest in her before, and now, when she was completely unavailable, they were appearing out of the bloody woodwork! Ron was so upset by the possibility of her not choosing him, and Hermione had no choice but to refuse him. And Cormac McLaggen? Why did he have to suddenly be interested in her? She knew his reputation – he was not likely to take no for an answer.

In some alternate universe, she probably would have been flattered by the competitive interest, but now it only made her feel nauseous. She was going to have to evade Cormac at all cost and do everything she could to discourage him. It was worse, though, to think of Ron. If he were to take Harry's advice and ask her out, she was going to have to break his heart. And that was going to break hers.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she knew that Ron deserved some happiness. Since he could not have her, he needed the Keeper position. Swallowing nervously, she scrambled to her feet, grabbed her book bag, and vowed to do everything in her power to make sure he made the team.

With a silent apology to Harry for possibly ruining his 'top-notch' team, she set off towards the Quidditch pitch.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As darkness began to settle upon the castle, Severus finally made his way back to his quarters. After dealing with over-enthusiastic shopkeepers, tension was beginning to accumulate in his forehead. When he had entered his sitting room, he almost immediately collapsed into his worn, leather armchair. He pulled the two small boxes from the pocket of his outer robes, and carefully set them upon the end table beside him.

After staring at the boxes for a few minutes, he sighed and summoned to him a piece of fresh parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. He quickly scratched out a short note onto the parchment and then banished the ink and quill back to their normal residence.

"Dobby!" he bellowed, pinching his eyes shut. With a sharp pop, the garishly-dressed house elf appeared before him.

"Master Snape, sir, needs Dobby?"

The man took a deep breath and nodded. He picked up the boxes and held them out to the elf. "I need you to wrap these. _Tastefully_, mind you – not like the way you dress."

The elf's eyes widened in excitement, and he emphatically nodded.

"Attach this to the smaller of the two," Snape continued, handing over the parchment. "And then I need you to deliver them to Miss Granger's dormitory…._without_ drawing attention to yourself. Is that understood?"

"Yes Master Snape, sir! Dobby understands!" The elf was practically dancing with joy. "Dobby will make sure Master Snape, sir's presents for Hermione Granger are perfect!"

"Yes, yes," Severus grunted with an irritated wave of his hand. "Be gone with you!"

Another crack filled the air, and the quivering body of Dobby the house elf had disappeared.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"I can't believe he missed those shots!" Ron shouted happily as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Shhh, Ron," Hermione admonished, looking around carefully for any sign of Cormac. "He could hear you!"

"Don't care if he does!" he grinned, proudly tightening his grip on his broomstick. "He's not the starting Keeper – I am!"

Harry clapped the other boy on his shoulder blade. "You did great, Ron! You only missed one."

"Yeah, because Gin had to go and be all nasty about it."

"Get used to it." Ginny rolled her eyes, and pushed past him into the common room.

"Oi! Where are you off to?" he called after his sister.

She turned around just long enough to answer. "I have rounds, Ron! Some of us still have prefect duties, you know."

"Well, that was a little harsh," Ron muttered. After a few seconds, he shrugged and casually slipped an arm around both Harry's and Hermione's shoulders. "Well, what shall we do, then?"

Hermione shivered at his touch and immediately pulled away. She bit her bottom lip and smoothed her hand over her hair. "Erm, I think I'm just going to go to bed. It's been a long day, and those benches are uncomfortable."

Ron looked disappointed, but Harry gave her a small smile. "Thanks for coming, Hermione – and Happy Birthday again."

"Thanks," she grinned as she headed towards the stairs. "Good night! And congratulations, Ron!"

She kept the fake smile plastered on her face until Ginny had passed her coming back down the stairs. She wished the girl a good night, knowing that she would be fast asleep by the time Ginny had returned from her rounds. There was a flask of Dreamless Sleep with her name on it.

As she stepped into their empty room, she exhaled deeply and dropped the corners of her mouth. She quickly went about using the bathroom and getting ready for bed. When she had stumbled over to her bed and pulled back the bed curtains in search of her pajamas, her breath caught momentarily as she noticed two small gifts placed upon her pillow. They were both brilliantly wrapped in silver paper with large, blue bows, and as she pulled the first one towards her, she knew exactly who they must be from.

With an awkward lump in her throat, Hermione sat on the edge of her bed. She slipped the rolled up piece of parchment from within the bow and nervously unfurled it.

**_Dear Miss Granger,  
>Upon inquiry, I was informed that your parents had placed an order for your birthday. Were they able, they would have presented you with this on their own. It is with my deepest regret that I must deliver it on their behalf.<br>Sincerely,  
>Professor S. Snape<em>**

Tears were forming in her eyes as she dropped the note to the mattress and hastily began tearing off the beautiful wrapping paper. She let out a deep breath as she stared at the small jewelry box before finally flipping open the lid. She let out a small sob at the sight of the delicate sapphire ring nestled into the velvet pillow within the box.

It was tradition on her mother's side of the family that every girl received a ring of her birthstone upon the day she reached her majority. She could not even begin to describe the emotion she felt at the knowledge that her parents had chosen the day she came of age in the magical world, and not the Muggle one.

Her hands shook as she examined the ring. Two small diamonds sparkled on either side of the midnight blue stone, and the white gold metal of the band twisted between the gems as though it were a vine. It was so beautiful that had her parents been alive and standing before her, she probably would have cried anyway and then launched herself at them to pull them into a giant hug.

As it was, however, she could only remember the last time she had spoken to them. She saw the love and sadness in their expressions as she shouted at them and ran away. She had been angry at that moment, partly because she felt they were not accepting her place in the wizarding world. The presence of the ring box in her hand shattered that notion, and emphasized that their suggestion had only been for her protection.

Hermione stared at the box for ages, weeping to the point that she could not even see the ring through her tears. Guilt was tearing through her chest, and she knew she did not deserve the gift.

"Granger?"

The crying girl raised her eyes from the ring and found herself staring at her blonde roommate.

Mattie's face was full of concern as she slowly walked towards her. "What's wrong?"

Hermione only shook her head and dropped her eyes back to her hands. She squeezed her eyes shut as the older girl cautiously sat beside her.

"That's a gorgeous ring," she stated cheerfully. "You got it for your birthday? Who's it from?"

The brunette sniffled and wiped her face on the back of her sleeve. "My p-parents."

"Oh," Mattie responded softly. "How long has it been since you spoke with them?"

Hermione swallowed back another sob as she sorted through the memories of the past month. "Almost five weeks. W-we fought."

"I'm sorry," the girl replied, taking hold of Hermione's hand and giving it a squeeze. She glanced up at the appearance of the third roommate in the doorway.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked anxiously. "Are you alright?"

Mattie shook her head and vacated her spot on Hermione's bed so the redhead could replace her. As Ginny sat down, she peered into her friend's lap and raised her eyebrows at the sight of the ring. "Who gave that to you?"

"Her parents," the blonde answered quietly when it appeared the other girl was not going to answer.

"Oh," Ginny answered politely, before turning her attention back to Hermione's shaking form. A sudden light of realization appeared in her eyes, and she let out a more knowing, "_Oh_."

When Hermione collapsed back against her pillows, Ginny sighed and scrambled up higher onto the bed. She pushed the other gift to the edge of the bed and laid next to her friend, wrapping her arms around the girl's chest.

"Maybe you'll get to see them for Christmas," she suggested in a hopeful tone.

Hermione sighed and ducked her head. "It's all my fault."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is!" she argued louder. "If I weren't a witch, none of this would have happened."

Ginny sighed and tightened her hold. "If you weren't a witch, Harry would probably be dead three times over – Ron, too. And Neville, come to think of it – he'd never have survived five years of Potions without you. And we'd likely still be stuck with that horrible toad for Defense."

The bushy-haired girl gave a small snort, but pulled her knees closer to her chest. "I miss them so much."

Ginny rested her forehead against Hermione's shoulder and nodded. "I know."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus sat stiffly at the Head Table on Sunday morning. He had been there for some time already, and his food had long since gone cold. He had not been very hungry in the first place, but had decided to come to breakfast in order to catch a glimpse of Miss Granger. He needed to judge for himself just how distracted she would be.

Upon checking his watch, he gave an impatient puff of air and reached for his coffee mug. Miraculously the beverage was still warm as he took a hesitant sip of it. He had been waiting nearly an hour, and as of yet there was no sign of the bushy-haired Gryffindor. Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum had already come and gone, as had a majority of the student body. Only a smattering of students remained in the hall, enjoying their breakfasts. Frustrated by the amount of time he was wasting, he set down the coffee and readied himself to leave. His actions were halted, however, when he caught sight of the two figures that had just appeared.

The youngest Weasley had slipped her arm through Granger's and seemed to be pulling the older girl towards the Gryffindor table. As the girls found their seats, Severus noticed that they both seemed rather worse for wear. Their hair was unkempt, and their clothes were noticeably rumpled – almost as though they had been slept in.

His chest clenched slightly as he focused his gaze on Miss Granger. The edges of her eyes were red and puffy, and her skin had taken on an ashen look. She said nothing, and stared blankly at her plate as the younger redhead piled a generous serving of eggs onto it.

_She's worse than I thought._ He sighed in exasperation as he watched the pair of them. The corners of his lips twitched as the young Miss Weasley gestured forcefully to the food, clearly instructing the other girl to eat. It was startling how accurate an imitation it was of her mother, who had often given him the same demanding treatment.

Hermione, on the other hand, was doing her best to mirror his behavior in the situation. He had rarely ever given in to Molly's incessant badgering, choosing to stare angrily at the well-prepared meal instead of consuming it. Watching the girl do the same thing, however, only served to frustrate him further.

**"Eat, Granger."**

Her head jerked up at his harsh instruction, and her eyes sought out his form. When he met her gaze, he saw her eyes narrow in anger. He felt a small sense of satisfaction when she dropped her gaze and begrudgingly picked up her fork.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

When Ginny finally left her side later that afternoon, Hermione immediately fled to the sanctity of their empty room. She shoved the ring-box and the note from Professor Snape to the back of her drawer, hoping that the adage, 'out of sight, out of mind' might ring true. Letting out a large sigh, she flopped backwards across her bed. When something sharp poked her in the cheek, she gave a small squeak and felt the mattress beside her. She took in a deep breath when she pulled the slender box wrapped in silver into her line of sight.

Pulling herself into a seated position, she hesitantly stared at the present she had forgotten. Snape had only referred to the ring as being from her parents, which meant that this one had to be from him. Gingerly, she began un-wrapping the box, taking as much time as she could to delay revealing his gift. She was not sure as to why she was so hesitant to discover what was in the box, but she figured it had something to do with the fear that it would be some meaningless trinket that he had purchased just to appease her.

She swallowed a nervous gulp of air and finally pulled the lid from the flat box. A slightly startled gasp escaped her lips as she gaped at the necklace that had been carefully tucked into the velvet lining of the box. Upon the dainty, silver chain there hung a clouded, purple stone. Her eyes widened as she lifted the item from its box and let it rest upon her hand. The amethyst was round in shape and was quite smooth and cool to the touch. It covered a good portion of her palm, and inscribed into the center of it was a rune marking.

Hermione immediately recognized the simplified rendering of the elk-antlers and blade of sedge-grass that together represented Algiz – the Rune of Protection and Opportunity. She closed her fingers around the pendant, and felt a small sense of calm as she called forth the description of Algiz she had written in an essay for a long-ago Ancient Runes lesson.

_"…The shape, embodied in the antler of the elk and the sedge-grass herb, gives the appearance of a hand raised in a protective gesture... This rune has been worn by those who are guided by alertness and awareness, and possess not only wisdom and vision, but also the clarity of mind to aid them in their journey…. Although the path may be fraught with danger, you need not fear when you are guided by Algiz, for the power of protection rests within you…"_

As she chewed on her lower lip, Hermione ran her thumb across the smooth surface of the amethyst. A stray thought came to mind, and she remembered that an upcoming unit in her Ancient Runes course centered on the meaning of the stones used in the making of magical runes. With a renewed sense of curiosity, she slipped off of her bed and grabbed her Runes text from her desk. Sinking down onto the floor, she quickly skimmed through the book searching for any mention of the purple gem.

After what seemed like only a few seconds, she stumbled across the passage she sought.

_"…The amethyst stone is exceptionally versatile in the art of rune-making, for it can be used as a stone of power, protection, wisdom, and healing. It can be used as a dream stone, as it is capable of bringing favorable dreams to the bearer of the rune. The protection bestowed upon the owner of the amethyst is not only directed against the witchcraft of an enemy, but also against the self-deception, guilt, and fear that may lurk within one's own being. Its healing strength allows one the power to focus energy, heal negativity, and overcome fears. The stone can also offer relief from headaches, assist in matters of insomnia, and aid in meditation (especially when worn as a necklace)…."_

Hermione allowed the heavy book to fall shut, and leaned back against the side of her bed. A small smile began to creep upon her face, and she clutched the necklace close to her chest.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Snape watched with uncertainty as the girl dispassionately shoved her returned essay into her book bag. He had been monitoring her throughout the class for any signs of distress, and had oddly seen none. After her appearance yesterday morning, it seemed strange that her performance in class would not be affected. She had paid complete attention to the lecture, even venturing to answer a question that had earned her a meager point for her house.

When she turned to follow Potter out of the room, he cleared his throat. "Miss Granger, a moment."

Hermione smiled encouragingly at the boy beside her and waited until he had left before walking back towards Snape's desk. "Sir?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at her polite demeanor, thinking it a far cry from the death glare she had sent him only twenty-four hours prior. He also found it strange that he could see the chain of the amethyst necklace poking out from beneath her shirt, but there was no trace of the sapphire ring upon any of her fingers.

Pushing his concerns away, he leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. "The Gryffindor Quidditch team is scheduled to practice Monday and Thursday nights, are they not?"

The girl nodded in response. "Starting tonight at seven, yes."

"I feel it would be prudent not to waste the time when the majority of your interrogators will be otherwise engaged, don't you?"

Hermione gave a slight smile and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Yes, sir."

"That being settled," he drawled calmly, "I will expect you promptly at seven, in the corridor outside of Professor McGonagall's personal quarters. I assume you remember where that is."

She nodded, but then gave him a curious look. "If you don't mind me asking, why there?"

"And if I do mind you asking?" he snapped out of habit. He then shook his head, and sat forward. "Now that you are of age, Miss Granger, your training will be expanded to include things that would be best left unmonitored by the Ministry. My office is not exactly conducive to these activities."

"Oh," she responded, rocking back on her heels. "So the magical trace on underage wizards applies even while at Hogwarts?"

"Indeed," Severus answered with a quick nod. "The Trace documents every occurrence of magic – accidental or not – demonstrated by a wizard or witch from birth until the day of his or her seventeenth birthday. Certain Ministry officials monitor the reports, and decide whether or not action needs to be taken."

The girl's jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened before she suddenly closed them. "Erm, Professor? When exactly does the trace end? I mean, does it just switch off as soon as the day of your birthday begins, or does it measure the seventeen years from your exact time of birth?"

He opened his mouth to admit that he did not know, but then stopped, pinching his eyes together in suspicion. "Why?"

"No reason," she hastily answered, before nervously making her way towards the door.

"Miss Granger," he called out warningly. "_Why_ do you ask?"

"I'll see you at seven, sir," she smiled much too-innocently, and then slipped out of the room.

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><p><em>AN: If you're curious as to what Algiz looks like, you can Google image search it. I think it looks a lot like a chicken's foot_.


	29. Destination, Determination, Deliberation

**A/N: I didn't quite make the deadline I had set for myself, so I made it extra long.  
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**Thanks to LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Phoenixica24, earley1991, callalily32, SapphireDreamer26, BlooDsucKkerR69, Lyra Lupin, cinnamin, , hnwhitlock2000, woodshark, Lover of Fantasy, MCannon5887, Angelwells, HPFanGirl01, xSiriusxstalkerx, Portus, JordanGoombette, melonka, Startled Boris, Sezao1, vampirela69, Odile1001, Mel, hello, FlitterKat, Sev01, Kim, alicehs, KittyPimms, Stacy Vorosco, Tilly, and KyraElise for reviewing!  
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**Also, apologies to xSiriusxstalkerx for posting it at the same time...it just happened to be when I got it done. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. And the rest of you for how I end the chapter. I find I really do enjoy cliffhangers.  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 29**

_Leave it to the Ministry not to include an index … or even a sodding Table of Contents._

Hermione ignored the growling of her stomach as she madly flipped through the pages of a large tome entitled _Magicks of the Ministry: The Abridged Version_. Once Charms had let out for lunch, she had offered the boys a quick excuse about an upcoming Runes essay and had then made a bee-line for the library. She had been there ever since, slumped in her chair, searching aimlessly through the book that was thicker than her hand was long.

Her logic was telling her that she was over-reacting, per usual, but there was still a nasty 'What if?' looming over her head. The Confundus Charm was not exactly an unforgivable, but she had still endangered the well-being of a student by using it. Cormac could have easily fallen from his broom instead of just being unable to focus on the Quaffle. She had attacked an unarmed student in order to fix the outcome of the try-outs, and until now, no one seemed to have noticed. However, if the Trace had still been in place, someone in the Ministry could bring it to light. Not only could she theoretically be expelled, but the integrity of the Gryffindor Quidditch team would be jeopardized. While Dumbledore would likely smooth it over and allow her to remain enrolled at Hogwarts, a large part of her doubted whether Harry or Professor McGonagall would ever speak to her again.

_At the very least, I'd have to turn in my Prefect badge._ She sighed nervously, and glanced at the large clock hanging over Madam Pince's desk. Thankfully, the librarian had departed for the Great Hall, though not before fixing Hermione with a rather suspicious glare.

Hermione stopped suddenly in her page turning when the title Department of Magical Tracings caught her eye. Sitting upright, she began methodically scanning through the chapter. Her eyes widened exponentially as she read through all of the descriptions of the magical monitoring utilized by the Ministry. Apparently, underage wizardry was not the only thing on which they were keeping tabs. There were traces on registered port keys, Animagi transformations, and even magical bets.

She let out a deep breath, thinking again of how lucky Sirius had been to never have registered as an Animagus – not that it had mattered much, in the end. By the time she finally came across the underage trace, she was rubbing her head vigorously and had begun skipping over the paragraphs that held little importance in her current quest. Hermione bit her lip in anxiety and felt her stomach sink as she read over the information. The Trace was centered on their magical core and would only expire when their core was fully developed at the physical age of seventeen.

"Bollocks," she whispered harshly, dropping her head onto the table. Her mother had always told her that she had been born a night owl, not entering the world until exactly 11:47 pm. Her father had been watching the clock the entire time, lest he pass out while watching anything else.

It had not even been dark outside when she had confunded Cormac, so if the book was correct, she would still have been under the monitoring of the Ministry.

_But wouldn't they have contacted me already? It's been a day and a half. Unless they would have sent a query to Professor Dumbledore first?_ She wrinkled her nose remembering the quizzical glances the Headmaster had sent her way during breakfast. He had set her so on edge that she barely touched her toast.

_Ugh! If only there was a Time-Turner to be had…_

Hermione launched backwards in her chair, a slow smile forming on her face. She had definitely used the Time-Turner for more than six hours, so technically she would have physically reached seventeen before she legally had. She gave a relieved sigh and closed the book.

As she hauled the volume off of the table and walked it back to its shelf, she suddenly wondered how old she actually was.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione waited until the last of her friends had disappeared through the portrait hole before she closed her Defense textbook and quickly ran up to her room. She carefully stowed her books onto her desk and then made her way down the stairs and out of Gryffindor Tower. Treading confidently, she attracted little attention as she made her way towards her destination. Within the matter of a few minutes, she found herself standing in front of the familiar lion cub painting.

As the cub tilted his head in curiosity, she folded her arms against her chest and glanced anxiously in either direction. She had been curious all day as to why he would have her meet him here. It was a good three floors away from his office – well out of either of their ways.

_Maybe that's the point_, she thought, her gaze fixed intently on the lion cub, who had grown tired of watching her and was now playing with a long blade of grass. _Maybe he's worried somebody will see us and start raising questions._

"I would start paying more attention to my surroundings, Miss Granger."

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She whirled around in surprise, unconsciously bringing out her wand.

Snape emotionlessly glanced down at the slender length of vine pointed at the center of his chest. Using two fingers, he casually pushed it aside as though he were simply brushing away a fly.

"Oh!" Her face flushed in embarrassment as she dropped her wand arm. "I didn't mean to, I swear … it's just….well, you scared me, and –"

"It was a decent enough response," he interrupted, stepping fully out of the shadows. It was then that she realized he had just emerged from a descending staircase that she had never noticed before. "Though it was exceptionally slow. I could have killed you before you were even aware of my presence."

She pulled her brows together in confusion as she pocketed her wand.

Noticing her expression, he cleared his throat. "You need to be as cognizant of your surroundings in the physical world as you are in your head, Miss Granger. We will work on it. Now, come along."

Hermione nodded hesitantly and spun to follow him as he strode quickly down the corridor. Taking double steps, she caught up to the man and glanced up at him curiously. "Are we working on it right now?"

He grunted a negative response and turned to walk down a side hallway. They continued on walking next to each other in strange silence, until they reached what seemed to be a dead end. As they neared the wall, however, a narrow archway suddenly appeared. As it was only wide enough to allow passage of a single person, Snape stepped in front of her and passed through the opening.

Falling in behind him, the girl frowned as she glanced about their current location. The stone walls and floors were dingier now, and it was dark. There were no windows in the immediate vicinity, and the self-lighting torches were few and far between.

"Where are we going, sir?" she asked, shivering slightly as they descended a steep staircase. Though this part of the castle was not much colder than any place else, the poorly lit walkways gave rise to strange shadows that made her nervous. She had never been afraid of the dark as a young child, but dealing with werewolves and Death Eaters since then had been enough to change her opinion. Tightening her school robes around her, she resolved to keep her breathing under control. "Professor?"

"We are in the process of exiting the castle," he responded blandly, pushing through an old door and holding it open for her.

"But the Entrance Hall is back that…." Her voice trailed off as a lump caught in her throat. "_Why_ are we leaving the castle?"

Severus stopped cold at the shakiness of her voice. Catching sight of the fear swimming in her eyes, he swallowed a sudden feeling of guilt and shook his head. "I am _not_ taking you to the Dark Lord, Miss Granger. You have my word."

She blew out a long breath and closed her eyes in relief. "Then where are you taking me? Where are we even?"

"At present, we're somewhere beneath the Black Lake," he answered with a look towards the damp roof.

"Really?"

He nodded once and continued walking. After a long minute of silence, he spoke again. "This is an old emergency route, implemented by the staff a number of centuries ago. It ends around fifty meters short of the shore-line."

"What's the point of an emergency route ending in the middle of the lake?" Her eyebrows were raised in disbelief. "That doesn't sound like a very intelligent design to me – or didn't they finish it?"

Snape snorted as they made their way down another flight of stairs. "It just so happens that the tunnel ends on the opposite side of the Anti-Apparition wards."

"Oh," she muttered softly, fighting the urge to blush after having just revealed her Muggle way-of-thinking. It had not even occurred to her that a wizarding escape route would not need a physical exit. Taking the time to wrap her mind around the new information, she predictably found herself at another question. "Theoretically then, couldn't someone apparate into the tunnel and then sneak into the castle?"

He slowly shook his head. "Highly unlikely. Apparition is limited to those with knowledge of the passage-way, which is shared only amongst the current and former Headmasters and Heads of House. The tunnel itself does not allow access to anyone without the current Headmaster's approval."

"Well, that wasn't in _Hogwarts, A History_," Hermione responded, mainly to herself.

"Precisely the reason it remains a _secret_ passageway, Miss Granger."

She gave half a laugh before asking her next question. Personally, she thought she was beginning to sound like a broken record. "So where exactly are we going that requires us to apparate?"

"The destination matters little in this foray," Severus stated quietly. "It is the method of transportation that is important to your training."

The girl's jaw dropped suddenly. "You mean you're going to teach me how to apparate?"

"A crucial step in defense is knowing when to fight back and when to take flight. It would be more than remiss to not provide you with the means to accomplish the latter."

Hermione had opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she felt a feather-light tingling pass across her body. "Was that –"

"The wards." Snape walked a few more steps and then turned where he stood.

"I've never felt them before," she whispered, staring at the invisible barrier in bewilderment.

"When you spend a great deal of time focusing on your inner magic, you also increase your awareness of anything that affects it." He gave a brief sigh and then extended his hand towards her. "Shall we not dawdle?"

She swallowed hesitantly as she pulled her gaze from the air and let it rest on his outstretched limb. "But I've never apparated before."

The wizard sighed again and shook his head. "And you will not be doing so this evening – or at all, until you've conquered your stomach. As for now, I will be apparating the both of us. To do that, however, you are required to take my arm."

With a large intake of breath, Hermione gingerly wrapped her arm around his, closed her eyes, and nodded. She felt him pull her tighter to his body, and a split second later, it seemed as though her stomach was being pulled out through her nose while the rest of her spun at a high rate of speed. The next thing she knew, she had been slammed to a dead stop, and her stomach suddenly snapped back to its normal position.

Severus roughly grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her body just enough to avoid her getting sick on his dragon-hide boots. When she had finished expelling the only meal she had eaten that day, he silently vanished the mess and gently guided her to the ground.

"Bloody hell," she mumbled, resting her head against the cool grass. "What went wrong?"

He shook his head and took a seat on an upturned stump near where she lay. "Nothing went wrong. It was a perfectly standard side-along apparition."

"Holy Merlin," she gasped. A few seconds later, she felt brave enough to roll on her side. "_How_ are you fine? That was positively terrible!"

"Twenty years experience," he stated blandly, crossing his arms.

She nodded as she slowly pulled herself into a seated position. "Glad to hear it gets better."

"Not better," he corrected stiffly. "Your body simply learns to tolerate it."

"Oh, good." Hermione sighed and forced herself to stand. She glanced about the wooded area before looking back at her teacher, who was watching her intently. "Where are we?"

"On the outer edge of the Forbidden Forest," he answered, rising from his seat. "Have you recovered yet?"

She brushed dried grass off of the front of her robes and shrugged. "I suppose so."

He quickly crossed the distance between them and extended his arm once more. After saying a silent prayer, she took his arm and mentally prepared herself for the physical onslaught. A second later, her stomach was doing the same elaborate jump as the wooded area suddenly became an empty park.

Snape noticed the sickly green hue once again overtake her face and immediately pushed her down onto a picnic bench. He forced her head in between her knees and then waited silently for her nausea to pass.

When Hermione finally dared to lift her head, she quickly wished she had not done so. Minus the rusting slide at the very edge of the trees and disregarding the color of the swing set, their current location was nearly all too identical to the park near her home. Instinctually, she fingered her wand and quickly scanned the trees for any signs of disturbance.

"Miss Granger?" Severus asked, noticing her sudden defensive posture. He followed her gaze to the tree line, but saw nothing.

As a small wind began to pick up the loose leaves from the ground, she let out a small whimper and jumped off of the bench. Colliding with his chest, she grabbed hold of the wizard's robes and pleadingly glanced up at him. "Get me out of here, please!"

Though he did not completely understand her request, he quickly wrapped an arm across her shoulder and disappeared with a sharp pop. As they reappeared in the area of the Forbidden Forest, he let go of her and watched in concern as she stumbled away from him and sat down hard on the old stump.

"Are you alright –"

"I'm fine!" she shouted in a high-pitched voice that did not match her declaration. Her current level of queasiness could not entirely be attributed to the split-second jump across the countryside. She ran her hands through her hair and shivered as she fought back tears. "Just don't ever take me there again….or anywhere else like that."

Snape opened his mouth and then shut it again, unsure of what to say. He thought of the small park that he and Lily had frequented in their youth, but could not see what would have caused her such distress. If anyone should have had negative feelings towards the place, it should have been him. Instead, he was the one who found it calming, and the girl had been the one to erupt into a full-blown panic attack.

And then he realized why.

He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hand. "Miss Granger – I did not mean to upset you. I did not consider the location carefully enough."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and shook her head. "It's…it's alright."

"If you wish to return to the castle, I will – "

"No!" she interrupted, standing to her full height. "I want to keep going!"

He pinched his lips together as he scrutinized the desperate expression on her face. A few seconds later, he nodded once and held out his arm.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hours later, a loud crack signaled their reappearance in the passageway beneath the Black Lake. After apparating all evening, Severus was too tired to magically dampen the sound, but figured no one would be in earshot anyway.

The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched into a hesitant smile as she realized there was no bout of nausea accompanying this landing. After the first few travels, the horrible feeling in her stomach began to lessen in intensity, until with the last two attempts, it had nearly faded entirely. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation of passing through the Anti-Apparition wards and then looked up towards her companion.

"When do I get to start apparating?"

Snape exhaled loudly and ran his hand across his chin. "If you can handle the first few travels next time as well as you have this one, we may attempt to begin. If there is any hint of sickness, however, you will not attempt anything more than side-along."

She opened her mouth to ask why, but halted when he gave her the explanation without request.

"If you are distracted, however briefly, by your stomach, there is a greater likelihood that you will severely splinch yourself."

"Makes sense, I suppose," she muttered, crossing her arms against her chest as she followed him through the dark tunnel. "You aren't going to get in trouble with the Ministry for teaching me this, are you?"

He stopped so suddenly that she ran into him. As she stepped back from his person, he stared down at her in suspicion. "And just how are they going to discover it, Miss Granger?"

"Well, since you're teaching me, I don't exactly have to take the Ministry lessons," she stumbled heavily over her words while shifting under his glare. "I mean, wouldn't they ask when I take my test?"

Severus blinked in surprise and then shook his head. "You will not be getting your license. As far as the Ministry is concerned, you are not interested in learning apparition at this point in time."

"What?" She stared after him as he started moving away from her again. "What do you mean? You expect me to apparate without a license?"

His loud sigh echoed off of the stone walls. "Did you learn nothing from your reading this afternoon?"

"My reading?" Hermione repeated as she scurried after him. "How do you know what I read? Are you spying on me again?"

"You weren't at lunch, Granger," he answered, showing nothing but indifference to her accusation. "After the conversation in my classroom this morning, it does not require a Seer to determine where you had gone. That being said, you still owe me an explanation regarding that conversation."

A deep scowl set onto her face as she dropped several paces behind him. Silence pervaded the passageway for a number of minutes.

"I could compel you to answer me," he said coolly.

"Fine!" she hissed, stopping in her tracks. "Since you want to know so badly, Professor – I attacked a student and was worried there would be a Ministry record of it! Go ahead and strip me of all the points in Gryffindor's hourglass!"

Snape spun around, his eyebrows dangerously narrowed. After a few seconds' scrutiny, he tilted his head. "You aren't lying, are you?"

The girl shook her head angrily. "No! I'm not."

He straightened to his full height and folded his arms against his chest. "Explain."

Hermione sighed bitterly and threw her hands down to her side. With no other option left to her, she launched into a somewhat-winded, detailed report of what she had done to Cormac and the reasons behind it. To her surprise, the Potions Master remained completely silent throughout her confession. When she had finished, she could have sworn there was the hint of a smirk on his face.

"You thought you would get expelled over a Confundus Charm?" he asked in disbelief. "I can assure you, Miss Granger, underage students have attacked each other with much more damaging magic and have received nothing more than a detention."

"Harry was very nearly expelled, wasn't he?" she countered. "He used a Patronus to _save_ himself and his cousin, and they tried to expel _him_. I _attacked_ a student! Why would they treat me any differently?"

The dark-haired man gave a dip of his head, conceding her point. "I take it you've discovered how the Trace works, then?"

She nodded and wrapped one arm across her stomach. "It's based on your physical age. I wasn't born until nearly eleven at night, but it doesn't matter."

Severus frowned. "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Time-Turner," she responded before thinking. After realizing what she had said, she immediately flicked her gaze to his face.

"When did you ever have the chance to use a Time-Turner?"

Hermione winced. "Third year. Professor McGonagall gave it to me so I could take more classes."

"That's how Black made his miraculous escape, wasn't it?" he asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was the only thing that made sense as to why she would have hidden the Time-Turner usage from him during their Occlumency sessions.

"Yes," she answered with caution. "Professor Dumbledore sent us back to save him and Buckbeak….ended up saving Harry, too, I guess. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" he asked in wonder. "What exactly do you have to apologize for?"

"You lost your Order of Merlin because of us," she answered, staring at the floor. "And then, there was the whole attacking you thing."

The tall wizard closed his eyes and blew out a deep breath. "It certainly was not the first concussion I've had – nor the worst."

_Likely, it won't be the last_, he thought with a twitch of his eyes.

Without a further word, he turned on his heel and began walking away from her. Hermione took in a panicked breath and ran to catch up with him. Snape may not have been in the best of moods right now, but she did not want to walk alone in the dark. After the anxiety she had suffered in the park earlier that night, she had an overwhelming urge to keep him within arm's reach in case something were to happen. It was not exactly logical, as they had already safely returned to the castle – and even if they were to be threatened, Snape could no longer apparate them away – but it still made her feel safer to have him nearby.

She slipped the amethyst pendant out from beneath her robes and ran her thumb across its smooth surface. The silence was beginning to gnaw at her. "I was curious about how much using the Time-Turner had affected me. When I did the calculations, I estimated that I had aged an extra one hundred and twenty-six hours because of it. In days, that's –"

"Five and one-quarter days," Severus muttered. "I can do the math."

The young witch nodded and let a minute pass quietly before she spoke again. "So, I guess technically I came of age late Monday afternoon."

"Is there a point to this?" he snapped as they ascended one of the narrow staircases.

"No," she sighed. "I just don't like the quiet right now."

The man grunted as he peered at her from the corner of his eye. A long moment later, he shrugged. "I suppose I should thank you on the behalf of Slytherin House."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow. She had a sudden feeling that she was not going to like the reason why.

"For cementing Mr. Weasley's position in front of the Gryffindor rings," he responded with a sneer. "After all, he is our king."

An exasperated groan escaped her lips. "_That_ isn't funny! It wasn't funny last year, and it isn't funny now!"

"Funny or not, it achieved its desired effect."

"Oh, like you could have done any better," she snapped before remembering who she was speaking to. "Sir."

A smirk graced his lips as he pulled open a door for her. "Perhaps I have."

Her eyes widened as she passed through the doorway. "You played Quidditch?"

"You believe Dumbledore would allow my refereeing a match if he did not already know I could handle myself on the pitch?" He fixed her with a pointed look. "He would not have risked his precious Potter on my ability to command a broom."

The girl fell silent as she considered the new information. There were several questions forming in her mind, but she was not sure which ones she could ask without annoying or angering him.

Snape sighed at the look on her face. "You look as though your head is about to explode. Ask your questions."

"How long were you on the Slytherin team?"

"Four years," he answered honestly. It had taken him until his fourth year to scrape together enough galleons from doing other Slytherins' homework to purchase a decent broom. Lily had always been fascinated by the sport, and he had wanted to impress her by making his team. The first two years he had played for her; the last two he had played to crush James Potter. "I was a Chaser in my fourth year, and Keeper the next three."

"I think I would have pictured you as a Beater," Hermione stated. "No offense."

The wizard snorted as he overtook the lead from her again.

"Were you any good?" she asked innocently.

Severus raised an eyebrow and then rolled his eyes. "My fifth year was the only year we lost the Cup."

It had not been the only thing he had lost that year.

"Who beat you?"

At the nasty look on his face, she knew immediately it had been Gryffindor that took the Cup that year. She took in a deep breath and stared at the floor as she walked. After a while, she found she would rather risk an angry outburst from him than have to continue on in dead silence.

"Do you really think Cormac would have made a better Keeper than Ron?"

"Use your head, Granger," he chided. "Even though confunded, McLaggen only missed two of the Quaffles."

_That's what I was afraid of._ She let out a long, disappointed breath and hung her head. "Please don't tell Professor McGonagall."

Severus gave a short bark of laughter and shook his head. "The whole purpose of this exercise is to keep the both of us alive. It would not be in my best interest to give her a reason to murder you."

Hermione tried to laugh, but could not quite manage it. Instead, she gave half a smile and then started chewing on her lip. Within a few minutes they passed through the archway and into the main part of the castle. The girl let out a deep breath that she had not realized she had been holding.

Snape escorted her back to the lion cub's picture and then paused. "We will continue working on apparition next week."

"What about Thursday?" she asked.

"There are other matters to be addressed," he responded, "such as improving your reaction time."

The witch slowly nodded, but then nervously shifted and dropped her gaze to the floor. "It's been over a month, Professor. What if…what if _he_ … calls for us?"

The wizard sighed and pressed his lips together. "It is likely he may not wish to see you for some time. The Dark Lord thrives on making others uneasy. He will summon you on his own schedule, and it will be best for you not to concern yourself over it until it happens."

When he noticed she looked no further reassured, he dropped his shoulders and crossed his arms. "If it would make you more comfortable, Miss Granger, we can spend Thursday evening cataloging which memories you will let the Dark Lord see."

Hermione finally raised her eyes from the floor to his face. She nodded emphatically at his suggestion.

He gave one nod of his head and bid her a good night. He watched her slowly make her way down the hallway and around the corner before he descended the staircase that led to his quarters.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As Thursday evening drew to a close, Hermione found she could barely keep her eyes open. When she yawned again, Snape gave an annoyed sigh and cancelled the incantation.

"Granger, if you cannot keep yourself from falling asleep in my chair, there is no point to my continuing to waste my own time and energy."

"Sorry," she murmured, straightening in her seat and trying to force her eyes open as wide as they could go.

The wizard across from her shook his head. "No. That is enough for this evening."

"But –"

"I said enough," he reiterated, collapsing into his own seat. "We've covered the most important memories you need to hide. On the off chance the Dark Lord calls for you in the next week, you will manage as best you can and we will deal with the consequences."

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms against her chest. "What if I can't do it?"

"Then you can't do it." He put his hands up and shrugged darkly. "And then we both die."

Her frown turned into an angry scowl. "This isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair!" he spat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his desk. "If you haven't figured that out yet, Miss Granger, you're a fool!"

"I _have_ figured that out!" She pushed out of her chair and slammed her fist down on his desk. "I figured that out when I was seven years old, and my only friends were my parents! Or when I was twelve, trying desperately to fit into a world that didn't seem to want me! While everyone else was enjoying their Halloween feast, I was crying in the bathroom when fate decided to be even more of a bitch and send a bloody troll after me!

"Would you like me to keep going, Professor? I only have five more years of examples! And last, but not least, I have to live with the fact that any mistake_ I_ make could kill _you_!"

The corners of his eyes wrinkled as she pushed away from the desk and began to pace. He let out a long breath and rubbed at his forehead.

"Miss Granger, you're tired. Perhaps you should retire to your dormitory."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but thought better of it. She snatched her robes from the back of the chair and quickly pulled them on over her clothes.

"Fine. Good night, Professor," she hissed, slamming the door shut behind her.

Severus sighed and let his head drop into his hands. When his office door sailed open again a minute later, he jerked upright in surprise.

"_Why_ aren't there any books on apparition in the school library?" Hermione asked, frustration still evident on her face.

"What?" He blinked at her in bewilderment, shocked not only by her reappearance, but by the sudden change of subject as well.

"I've been searching for a blasted book on apparition all week, and haven't found a single one! Even if I _could_ ask Madam Pince – which I've gathered that you would prefer I didn't – she probably wouldn't tell me why there aren't any anyway!"

Snape blew out a quick breath and leaned back in his chair. "There used to be books on apparition in the school library, yes. They were removed, however, to prevent students from trying to teach themselves how to apparate. In the interest of protecting children from possible injury, Dumbledore thought it best to remove temptation."

"Dumbledore?" she repeated with a frown. "When was this?"

He inhaled deeply and dropped his hands to his lap. "About twenty years ago."

Her eyes narrowed sharply as she glanced at him in suspicion. He feigned a look of innocence and waved her away.

"I will have a book sent up to your room. Now, go away."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione spent a good portion of the weekend curled up in a corner of the Gryffindor common room, reading and re-reading the book that had been delivered to her by Dobby. By the time Monday had arrived, she was quite confident she could recite the entire volume word for word. Unfortunately, she had forgotten about the Potions essay due that morning until Harry had asked her a question about it. As a result, she had quickly scratched out four inches of parchment during breakfast, while unbecomingly shoving toast in her mouth and hoping beyond hope that Snape would not cancel that evening's lesson as punishment for her inability to keep track of her homework. It seemed that luck was on her side, however, as he had let her leave the classroom without any extra instructions.

As such, she now stood in the lion cub's corridor, waiting somewhat patiently for the Potions Master to appear from the darkened staircase. As the castle chimes rang seven times, her wait was brought to an end.

"Your essay was only four inches," he stated as he started walking in the direction of the secret archway.

"That was the requirement, was it not?" she responded, stepping quickly to catch up to him.

"The _minimum_ requirement," he corrected.

Hermione rolled her eyes and remembered the comments he had left on her last essay of her fifth-year Potions class. "Once again, Miss Granger, I find it my harrowed duty to inform you to limit your responses to what is actually required. This is _not_ an opportunity for you to shove every book found in the Hogwarts library down my throat. If I wanted to read them, it would not be in your insufferable script."

"Memorizing books is not your only talent, I see," Snape muttered coldly.

"And that was probably the nicest comment you ever made on my essays," she countered, ignoring his barb. "So I really don't understand why you would mind that I didn't squeeze everything I possibly could onto six inches of parchment."

"While I stand by my previous assessment, it seems my colleagues are noticing the lack of know-it-all from their know-it-all."

"Well bugger them!" she spat. "Is that all you do in staff meetings – talk about me?"

"Regrettably."

The young witch let out an exasperated cry. "I go to class, I answer everyone's questions, and I get my homework done – if you expect me to write _insufferably_ long essays, Professor, you can bloody well write them yourself!"

Snape huffed irritably as he passed through the archway.

_Well this has gotten off to a fantastic start_, she sighed. _And he's probably given me a T on my essay_.

After several minutes of silence, they reached the old wooden door. When the dark-haired wizard held it open for her, she was surprised to see there was no angry expression on his face. _Maybe there's some hope left._

"Did you at least memorize the book I sent you?" he asked as he stepped past her a moment later.

"Perhaps," she responded with narrowed eyes.

Severus tilted his head and briefly looked down at her. "Good. Then I won't have to explain everything."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

An hour later, they stood facing one another in the small clearing of the Forbidden Forest. Snape had taken her on several jumps across the countryside, and when she had shown no signs of being distracted by the twisting of her stomach, he had decided it was time enough for her to begin attempting it on her own.

"Face me, Miss Granger, and try to visualize the tree line behind you," he instructed. "That is where I would like you to attempt to apparate."

Hermione glanced nervously behind her and then back at his face. "Isn't that kind of far for a first attempt? The book said only a few paces was –"

"I know what the book says!" he interrupted. "What did I tell you about people who write books?"

The girl sighed and opted to treat the question as though it were rhetorical.

"Trying to apparate in close quarters requires more concentration than does a slightly larger distance," Severus explained. "Which also means it has a higher likelihood for injury."

"Do you know this from experience?" she asked, tilting her head in curiosity. When he gave her nothing but a pointed glare in response, she rolled her eyes. "Why don't they mention _that_ in the books? Surely someone besides you could have figured that out by now."

"You'd be surprised how little the wizarding world has actually figured out for themselves," he muttered. "It's simply expected – and entirely accepted – that the majority of students will incur some degree of malformation upon their first apparition attempt."

"That's completely pathetic."

"As are your efforts of procrastination, Miss Granger," he chided as he took a seat on the stump.

Hermione grimaced and closed her eyes. She pictured the tree line in her mind for nearly a minute before she peeked out of one eye to see she had not moved at all. After several more minutes – and several more failed attempts – she gave a defeated sigh. "It isn't working."

"So I have noticed," Snape grumbled. "You aren't doing it correctly."

"I am so!" she spat. "I'm visualizing the tree line like you said!"

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Are you visualizing yourself appearing there?"

"Oh," she mumbled.

The Slytherin Head waited until she closed her eyes again to smirk in amusement. "You have to be determined to get to your desired destination, Granger, and to do it quickly. With enough concentration, your magic will oblige – just as it did when you physically threw me out of your mind."

She winced briefly at the memory and then returned her concentration to the task at hand. _I need to be at the tree line…I need to be at the tree line…I need to be there now….tree line now…tree line now…._

Suddenly, she felt as though she were being sucked through a narrow tube. Hermione threw open her eyes in surprise and suddenly found herself falling from the sky. When she landed with hard thunk on her back, she opened her mouth to gasp for air. Fear ripped through her at the realization she could not breathe, and she tried to cry out for help.

"Stop panicking, Granger," Snape called out. "You've only had the wind knocked out of you. If you would lie still for a few minutes, you'll be fine."

Hermione glared at him, but followed his instructions. When she could breathe again, she pulled herself up from the ground and gingerly touched her back. There was sure to be a bruise there tomorrow.

"You let yourself get distracted."

"I know, I know," she groaned. "It was just so different from side-along."

He crossed his arms, but nodded. "You'll find it's also easier on your stomach. During side-along apparition, you are not the one in control of the travel, and so you bear the brunt of the discomfort. Try it again, and don't focus on the sensation this time – keep focusing on the destination."

"Okay," she whispered, straightening her stance and closing her eyes. As she pictured herself at the tree-line, she kept repeating her 'tree line now' mantra. Within a matter of a few seconds, the sucking sensation began again. It was almost as though she were being pulled up into a vacuum cleaner. While the magic yanked her across the clearing, she forced herself to continue visualizing her destination.

As sudden as it had started, the sensation ceased, and Hermione felt normal again. Slowly opening one eye and then the next, she gave an excited shout as she realized the distance between herself and Snape had expanded nearly ten-fold. As she glanced around at the trees on either side of her, she squealed and twirled about on one foot.

"Do you have all of your parts?" the wizard yelled.

The girl glanced at him in confusion, but then began furiously patting herself down. _Two arms, two legs, ten fingers, ten toes, two eyes, one nose, one mouth, same unfortunate hair._

"I think so!" she called back.

"Then stop dancing and get back here!"

The witch schooled her glee to a small smile and began walking towards him.

"No!" he shouted. "Any simpleton can walk! I want you to apparate here!"

"Yes, sir!" Hermione grinned as she closed her eyes and fervently pictured the grass in front of his stump.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As her potion faded from a bright blue to the color of a robin's egg, Hermione banked the heat beneath her cauldron and reached for an empty flask. As she filled it with her brew, she glanced over at Harry and noticed he was still several minutes behind her.

"Would you like me to wait for you?" she asked as she neatly labeled the vial with the date and her initials.

"No," the boy shook his head as he stirred in his last ingredient. "I'll be fine."

"Okay then." She quickly cleaned up her half of the bench, and then grabbed the flask of her potion. "I'll see you in Charms."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled as he stared fixedly at his potion.

Hermione shrugged and made the journey up to Snape's desk. As she held out her flask, the professor briefly glanced up at her and gestured to the small crate on the corner of his desk. She carefully set the glass container into it and turned to leave. When he cleared his throat, she spun back around only to have her essay thrust at her chest.

"Tomorrow night, my office," he whispered just loud enough for her to hear.

She gave a small nod, snatched her essay out of his hand, and walked away from his desk. She paused just long enough to grab her materials off of her table and then continued out of the classroom. When she was a short distance away from the door, she tossed her books and bag to the floor. She took a deep breath before beginning to unroll the parchment.

Hermione had never received a 'T' on her homework before, and she was not quite ready to see it scratched at the top of her essay. She closed her eyes and willed that there be an 'A' written there instead. She could deal with Average a great deal more than she could a Troll – or even a Dreadful. When she finished unrolling it, she threw open her eyes.

"No!" she gasped, slumping against the wall. She exhaled loudly as she stared at the large red 'O' scrawled in the upper right hand corner of the parchment. As she slid down to the floor, she crumpled the essay into a ball and shoved it carelessly into the pocket of her robes.

Before this year, Snape had never given her anything higher than an Exceeds Expectations on her essays. When she had seen the Outstanding on her first assignment – the description of the potion he had given her – she had been excited by it. Even the second 'O' had been special to her, but upon the third identical marking, she had begun to feel uneasy about it. Now, with the fourth essay of the year – one that she had scribbled in the matter of an hour – being marked as Outstanding, she knew without a doubt that he was fixing her grades.

"Damn it," she hissed, slamming her fist against her thigh.

"What's the matter, mudblood? Didn't you get a perfect?"

Hermione glared up at the blonde boy. "Shove off, Malfoy."

"Bit testy, are we?" Draco cooed, smirking as he brandished his own Outstanding essay. "Have you finally learned who your betters are?"

"Piss off!" she shouted, pulling out her wand.

"Your time of the month, is it?" The Slytherin laughed and strode away in the direction of the staircase.

With an irate groan, she narrowly resisted sending a Stinging Hex at his backside. She had already attacked one student that month, and did not need to make a habit of it.

Tears of frustration formed in her eyes as she pulled the crumpled parchment from her pocket. She angrily launched it at the opposing wall, and then frowned when it bounced back to her.

"Incendio!"

Flames shot forth from the tip of her wand and quickly engulfed the balled-up essay. Within the matter of a few seconds, the fire extinguished itself, leaving nothing but a small collection of ash in its wake.

The door to the Potions classroom creaked open once more, and Harry appeared in the hallway. He scratched his head as he looked over the numerous comments scratched in red ink, and then shrugged as he unceremoniously stowed it away in his book. He glanced up in surprise to see his friend sitting in the hallway.

Hermione faked a smile. "Decided to wait for you after all."

Harry nodded, but took in her watery eyes and the pile of ash on the floor. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. "It was a stupid assignment anyway."

The boy's eyes widened and then he smiled in agreement. "Don't worry about it, Hermione. It's Snape – you're not going to get O's on them all."

_And that's exactly my problem_. She sighed, but nodded at him and accepted his proffered hand. After he pulled her to her feet, she grabbed her things and vanished the ashes.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Harry snorted, but gestured towards the staircase. "I suppose we should go wake up Ron so he doesn't miss Charms again."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

As Professor Flitwick lectured on the proper wand motions for the _Avis_ spell, Hermione felt her attention drifting towards the smug blonde who sat a few desks away. He still treated her like the dirt beneath his feet, but there was something different about him. From what she had seen and heard from the others, he was more prone to fits of anger than usual, and was especially volatile when anyone – particularly Harry – mentioned anything concerning his father. It was almost strange that he chose not to lord it over anyone that his father had avoided a stay in Azkaban after what had happened at the Ministry.

As if sensing he was being watched, Draco's head snapped up and he met her curious gaze. His face twisted into a disgusted sneer as he mouthed the word 'mudblood' at her.

"Prat." Hermione blew out an annoyed breath and turned her head back towards the front of the classroom.

"Who's a prat?" Ron whispered as he looked up from his doodling.

"Malfoy."

"Oh yeah," he agreed, sending a glare towards the Slytherin. "Knew that one already."

The girl raised her eyebrows in agreement and forced herself to pay attention to the lesson. As time passed, however, she found herself peeking at Draco through her hair. He was staring blankly at the edge of his desk, and Hermione was reminded of the almost-fearful expression he had worn during the Potions lesson a few weeks prior. Her blood ran hot, however, when she thought of their earlier interaction.

_'Your time of the month, is it?'_

_Stupid prat_, she scowled and crossed her arms. It was not enough to be made fun of for her heritage, but he had to ridicule her for her gender as well. _As though the only time we could possibly be short-tempered is when we're on the rag. Arse._

Her next thought, though, made the color drain from her face. She had been staying at Hogwarts for six weeks already and she had yet to have her period.

_Oh, God._ Hermione held her head in her hands as she stared at the desktop. Panic was tearing through her as she considered the possibilities. She had accompanied her mother to a doctor's appointment earlier that summer, and remembered staring at a stack of pregnancy pamphlets in the waiting room. Mentally, she began going through the checklist of early signs. Her period was nearly a month late, her lower back hurt, she had been suffering headaches, and she was unusually tired lately. Not to mention her emotions had been all over the map.

_And how many times have I been sick in the past month?_ Until now, she had been attributing the bouts of nausea to the situations in which they occurred – while dwelling on past memories, after renewing the bond, and during apparition. She was certainly feeling queasy now.

As the class was dismissed, Hermione numbly followed the boys as they walked towards the Great Hall for lunch. They were chatting merrily amongst themselves, but none of it made any sense to her. She was lost to the storm of questions swirling in her mind.

_I can't be pregnant, can I?_ Every time Snape had touched her, she had taken the Vacuus Ortis beforehand. She assumed either he or Madam Pomfrey had thought to administer some sort of contraceptive after the bonding ceremony while she was unconscious. But what if they hadn't? Or what if the Vacuus Ortis was defective? Snape had trusted her to brew it, but what if she had done it incorrectly? Or what if it was counteracted by one of the other potions she had taken in the meantime?

As she sat down at the Gryffindor table, her head was pounding with all of the 'What if's. While everyone else began piling food onto their plates, she could only stare at hers in disgust. After several minutes, she felt the weight of someone's gaze upon her. Lifting her head, she met Snape's critical stare and she swallowed nervously. As another wave of nausea rippled through her, she dropped her eyes to the table in shame.

_Well at least now he'll fail me on a potion_. She snorted in disgust at the thought of_ that_ being the silver lining.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione stood frozen outside of the doors to the Hospital Wing. She had been debating with herself all day about whether or not to come here. Harry and Ron had been with her throughout lunch and their Herbology lesson, but afterwards she had been on her own for her Arithmancy lecture. As there was still almost an hour before her absence would be noticed at supper, she thought it was time to bite the bullet and see Madam Pomfrey.

It was not as though she could pop down to a Muggle chemist's shop and pick up a pregnancy test. She had seriously considered it for a while, but had dismissed the notion when she realized she would have to ask someone to take her. She had not mastered apparating over more than a few meters, and she definitely did not trust herself to travel all the way to London without injury. Going by floo required access to the Floo Network, which she did not have. Even if she could walk to Hogsmeade and summon the Knight Bus, she did not have any spare money on her person.

The only three people who knew explicitly of her situation were Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. If she were to ask any of them, Dumbledore would send her to Pomfrey anyway, McGonagall would likely kill Snape, and Snape would likely kill her.

_Except he can't kill me, can he? Not without killing himself, and now his unborn child._

Hermione whimpered at the last thought. She took a number of calming breaths to keep herself from hyperventilating.

_You don't know that yet_, she reminded herself. _Maybe you're just over-reacting again._

She sucked in one final breath and extended a shaky hand towards the infirmary door.


	30. The Big Scare

**A/N: I really tried to get this finished quicker, but everything happened at once, and I didn't want to leave you with a really short update.  
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**I was so excited to see all of your reactions... Half of you are going to hate me, and half of you aren't! Sorry to those who will be disappointed!  
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**I loved all of the exclamation marks in your reviews! Thanks be to vampirela69, TealSwan, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, simplyy gabrielle, Stacy Vorosco, tennis14321432, Meimei, ultimanoapte, Mrs. Twilight, earley1991, Mel, silverose29, clio, hnwhitlock2000, woodshark, ineverdothis, NoneOfYourConcern, xSiriusxstalkerx, SapphireDreamer26, MinervaJean, Lover of Fantasy, Gamesgirl45, callalily32, , KittyPimms, Lacey-Mae Emelia, HPFanGirl01, La muta larmo, Zoek80, Startled Boris, Inez Stringos, xxxkimmixxx, severus49, Phoenixica24, hello, anon, BlooDsucKkerR69, MadamigellaSnape, semicharmed, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, Lyra Lupin, Angelwells, maggerita, bookfanatic123, AllyZ, Sev01, alicehs, Hazel08, paisleymll, MyCatSammy, Seph7, JordanGoombette, melonka, Coolnetta, Curiosity, cinnamin, Yeddi, livebyinsanity, joanna-archer, feedvack123, flowerypetal, Scipio'sgirl, and sirli! Wow!  
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**To Curiosity: I suppose Stockholm Syndrome could be a valid claim. I'm not really qualified to say one way or the other. Acing Intro to Psych does not an expert make.  
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**To sirli: I'll have to consider something like that.  
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**To xSiriusxstalkerx: I really did try! But I've delayed in posting until it fits your time frame! I woke up in the middle of the night just to do so.  
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* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 30  
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"Miss Granger, you are _not_ pregnant."

Hermione stared at the matron nurse and groaned in frustration. "But you haven't even checked! _How_ do you know I'm not?"

"I administered the contraceptive as soon as Professor Snape brought it to my attention," Madam Pomfrey explained. "I ran a scan after I had tended to all of your other injuries. It was negative."

"But –" She cut her protest short, realizing now that the school nurse knew about nothing beyond her initial condition. The woman did not know that she and Professor Snape were periodically required to have intercourse. Snape had forbidden Hermione from speaking of their bond with anyone who did not already know, which meant that she was going to have to find a way to get the mediwitch to perform the test without admitting anything.

"Couldn't it have been a false negative?"

"I find that rather hard to believe," the nurse responded.

"So, it's not impossible."

"It's highly improbable. I've never heard of a false negative with this particular spell."

"Can't you just run it again?" she pleaded. "Just to make sure?"

Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes. "Miss Granger, unless you have a particular reason to believe otherwise, you are not with child!"

"Please!"

The older witch crossed her arms. "_Are_ you sexually active?"

_I wouldn't exactly call it that._ Hermione shook her head in disgust and began to pace a short distance. "I just need to see it."

"Why?"

"Because I do!" she shouted, tears forming in her eyes. "I just need to see it for myself! Please! I have to see it for myself."

Poppy let out a large sigh and dropped her head. "Alright, Miss Granger. If you would calm down, I will show you that you have nothing to worry about."

_As if it were that easy_. The girl took in a deep breath and nodded.

"Come here," the nurse instructed, pointing to the space in front of her. "Stand still, with your arms at your sides. This may tickle a bit, but try not to move."

Hermione held her breath as the older woman spoke a string of Latin and twirled her wand in a complex pattern. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from giggling as the wand passed across the width of her abdomen and then crossed back to travel the length from her sternum to her pelvis. After a second or two, the mediwitch pulled the wand away from her body.

The girl bit her lip as the wand tip turned red. "What does that mean?"

Madam Pomfrey looked at her with a raised brow. "It means exactly what I've been saying to you. You are not pregnant."

"You're sure?"

The older witch laughed in disbelief. "My dear girl, I would like to think that I can tell the difference between red and green. As I said before, you have no reason to be concerned."

"But all of the symptoms –"

"Can be entirely explained by stress," the nurse interrupted. "Lack of menstruation can most definitely be attributed to stress – and to weight loss, for that matter."

Hermione cringed at the stern look the woman gave her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "So I'm really not pregnant?"

"Absolutely not."

"And what about my …" she trailed off, but gestured towards her pelvis.

"Your menstrual cycle should normalize itself soon enough," the woman answered. "Start off by eating more than one meal a day. If it doesn't right itself within a week or two, come back and see me. And if you're finding your schedule too demanding, perhaps you should speak with Professor McGonagall about cutting back on your responsibilities."

"I don't think that's necessary," she stated quickly. Her status as a prefect was really the only source of control she had in her life at the moment. Giving that up was completely out of the question.

"No one would think less of you for it, my dear," Madam Pomfrey added. "Especially after what you've been through. You need more rest. Are you sleeping well?"

At the girl's shrug, she made a disapproving sound. "Would you like a sleeping draught?"

"Professor Snape has provided me with Dreamless Sleep," Hermione answered. "I don't take it very often any more, though. I tend to over-sleep when I do."

"Perhaps you should ask him for something a little weaker," the nurse suggested. "I think you'll find with more rest, you'll be less prone to these…anxiety attacks."

"Okay." The young witch let out a large sigh and covered her face with her hands. Her knees felt weak with the large dose of relief that was coursing through her system. After a minute, she let her arms fall to her sides and she thanked the matron nurse for obliging her.

"Miss Granger," Poppy called out as the girl turned to leave. "If there's any other reason you were worried about pregnancy, you_ can_ talk to me about it. I will not judge."

Hermione swallowed nervously, but forced a smile onto her face and turned around. She shook her head. "Just having a bit of an anxiety attack, that's all. No one ever told me whether you had given me any form of contraceptive after I was, erm…assaulted."

Guilt was suddenly apparent on the mediwitch's face. "I understand, and I apologize for you not being informed. I should have taken more care in explaining things to you."

"Well," the girl responded with a glance to the door. "I should go eat."

"Yes, yes – you definitely should do that," the woman agreed, waving her hands to shoo the girl away.

As she pushed open the door to exit the hospital wing, Hermione closed her eyes and smiled at the small sense of liberation she felt. She was _not_ carrying Snape's child, and for the first time that day, she was extremely hungry.

Distracted by those elements, she failed to notice the presence of Remus Lupin, who was standing just on the other side of the hallway and was staring after her with wide-eyes and an ashen complexion.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus scowled as he straightened the last shelf of the potions storeroom. The second-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had left it in such disarray, that he was seriously contemplating stripping every student of two points. It had taken him nearly half an hour to put it to rights, and he would most assuredly be late for the evening meal.

Upon finishing, he stalked out of the room and rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead as he warded it closed. With one last angry glance about the classroom, he stomped out into the hallway and made for the staircase.

He had barely made it onto the ground floor when a sudden movement caught his attention, and he found himself being pushed into an empty classroom.

"Lupin!" he growled angrily, pushing away from his colleague. "Accosting me in the hallway? My, my – old habits do die hard, don't they? Pity neither Potter nor Black are here to give you a pat on the back for your efforts."

"Shut up, Snape!" Remus shouted as he slammed the door shut and cast a silencing spell. "Why didn't you tell me about Hermione Granger?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. "And just what, pray tell, do you think I have neglected to mention?"

"You didn't say anything about her being raped!"

The Potions Master somehow managed to keep his countenance impassive, but his stomach dropped at his colleague's outburst. "And just how did you come across this piece of information?"

"I overheard her talking to Poppy not ten minutes ago!" Lupin pulled at his hair and then glared at Snape. "You should have told me!"

"What business is it of yours –"

"Don't give me that rubbish! You _lied_ about what happened!"

"I am not the one who made the decision as to what to tell the Order!" Severus shouted back. "Take it up with Dumbledore if your tail is that bent out of shape over it!"

"We should have been told," Remus argued.

"_Why_? Did you want to be her furry knight in armor – is that it? Lusting after another young female? Nymphadora will be so displeased – "

"It's not like that!" the werewolf cried, his face turning red. "She's so young, Severus. We should have been there for her is what I'm trying to say."

"She isn't your responsibility," Snape hissed.

"Oh, but she's _yours_?" he asked in an incredulous tone.

Severus took in a deep breath to keep from losing his temper further. "What good would it have done to have the entire Order knowing the intimate details of her attack? You would prefer she have to publicly deal with her humiliation than privately? You would have her rape be the topic of discussion for the next staff meeting?"

Remus smashed his fist against a desk and panted in anger for several seconds. He turned toward the other wizard with a dark look on his face. "Who was it?"

Snape scowled and shook his head. "No."

"Tell me who it was! I know damn well that you know who did it!"

"If I did," he spat, "why would I tell you?"

Rage flared in Lupin's eyes as he grabbed hold of Snape's robes and slammed him against the wall.

Severus winced momentarily as the back of his head cracked against the blackboard, but recovered quickly and unsheathed his wand. Pressing the tip of it firmly into the soft tissue covering the other man's jugular, he glowered dangerously as he knocked Remus's hands away from his chest.

"Touch me again, Lupin, and the Headmaster will have to find himself another Defense instructor!"

Remus glanced nervously at the wand and took several steps backwards. As Snape pushed past him, he spun around to call out, "You're honestly protecting that monster?"

The Slytherin Head's shoulders slumped slightly as his hand stalled on the door knob. "It's not her rapist that I'm protecting."

"You're protecting yourself, then? I should have known you would."

Severus angrily shook his head at the accusation and yanked open the door. "It seems to have escaped your notice, Lupin, but I haven't given two shits about my reputation since we were sixteen."

Without sparing so much as a glance back at his colleague, Snape slammed the door shut behind him and stormed back to the staircase and quickly descended the steps to his dungeon office. He suddenly found that he was no longer hungry.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

At supper the following evening, Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she realized Remus was watching her again. It had been disconcerting enough to have him continuously glancing at her in concern during the Defense lecture earlier that day. She had hardly been able to concentrate on the actual lesson because every time she looked at him, he met her eyes with a horribly sympathetic gaze. And when the session had ended, she had practically run from the room before he could remind her yet again that he was there for her if she needed him.

Frustrated, she speared a chunk of steak and shoved it her mouth. She did not need his help or his pity. She did not want to have to need anyone, but as it was, the person she did need was the brooding man seated next to Lupin. It was the first meal he had attended since lunch the previous day, and even now he sat stone still, ignoring those around him and glaring at his plate.

Several fourth years had come back to the common room, loudly detailing just how horrible he had been during class, and the seventh-year Gryffindors who were taking NEWT-level Potions were currently discussing their own torture session at the table.

Hermione sighed as she removed her gaze from Snape and took another bite of her food. There was little over an hour left before she had to meet him in his office, and he was likely to be in no finer mood then than he was now. After last week, she was more than ready to continue sorting through her memories, but upon catching sight of the dark scowl chiseled onto his face, there was a large cloud of dread hanging over their meeting.

When Harry and Ron got up from the table to start getting ready for their practice, she decided to follow them out of the Great Hall. As they made for the staircase, however, she opted to head towards the front entrance instead. Stepping out onto the grounds, she took in a long breath of fresh air and then pulled her school robes tighter around her frame. The slight bite to the wind reminded her that it was indeed October, but she had no intention of wasting time running up to her room to grab a jumper.

Without paying attention to where she was walking, she eventually wound up at the edge of the lake next to the large boulder. She quickly scrambled atop it and balanced herself by sitting cross-legged. Ignoring the chill seeping onto her robes from the stone, she closed her eyes and systematically began clearing everything from her mind.

Sometime later, her concentration was broken by the sounds of laughter being carried on the breeze. Glancing back towards the castle, she spotted Harry, Ron, and Ginny heading towards the pitch. Deciding it must be nearing seven o'clock, she jumped down from the rock and slowly walked in the direction of the entrance hall. Once inside, she quickly descended into the dungeons.

Pausing before Snape's office, she took in a steadying breath and then rapped sharply on the middle of the door. When there was no immediate response, Hermione frowned and leaned against the wall. Assuming that she was a few minutes' early, she took a seat on the floor in order to wait for him. When a few minutes turned into half an hour, she began to get angry and then to get worried.

She picked herself up from the ground and knocked again on his door. As it went unanswered again, she tried turning the door handle and was surprised to find the door unlocked.

"Professor?" she called, hesitantly peeking around the door.

Hermione scowled when she found him sitting at his desk. He was slumped slightly in his chair, facing the door. The faraway look in his eyes, though, indicated he was not seeing anything in the present time and space.

Sighing bitterly, she stepped into the room and purposely threw the door shut. At the sound of it slamming, Snape jolted back into awareness.

"I would start paying more attention to my surroundings, Professor," she smirked. "I could have killed you before you were even aware of my presence."

Severus glared and crossed his arms. "You could have knocked."

"I did!" she huffed. "Half an hour ago, in fact."

A surprised look overcame his features, and Hermione raised her brow. "Where were you?"

"That is a completely asinine question," he grumbled. "I've been here the whole time."

"That isn't what I meant, sir. I meant where in your head," she clarified. _And my question isn't the asinine one._

Snape narrowed his eyes and pinched his mouth shut. A long silence descended upon the room before he finally cleared his throat. "Why were you in the Hospital Wing yesterday?"

Her eyes widened in shock and her stomach plummeted horribly. _How does he know? Did Madam Pomfrey tell him? Is that why he was so angry today?_

She swallowed nervously, not quite ready to speak of the reason behind her panicked visit to the school nurse. "She noticed that I appeared stressed and wanted to speak with me. Can't imagine _why_ I might appear that way."

He stared at her for several seconds before sighing and dropping his gaze to her feet.

"She thought perhaps that you would be willing to give me a sleeping draught that isn't as strong as the Dreamless Sleep," she added. "Something to help me sleep, but doesn't cause me to miss my morning classes."

"You haven't missed any of your classes."

Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. "That's because I haven't been taking it."

The wizard leaned back in his chair and rubbed a hand across his face. "Are you still having nightmares?"

"Not as often," she answered, holding her chin high. "And they're not as bad as they were. I just find it hard to sleep."

He nodded and rested his elbows on the sides of his chair. "I will have something prepared for you by tomorrow evening."

"Thank you."

The man inhaled deeply and frowned at her. "Are you going to sit down or are just going to hover by the door?"

"That depends," she replied with caution.

"On what?" he spat.

"On your temper. If you're really in as vile of a mood as everyone has said, I think I'd prefer to remain where I am."

Severus blinked at her in surprise and then gave a small snort. "You may sit, Miss Granger. I am not angry with you."

"Could've fooled me," she muttered under her breath as she stepped over towards her chair. "Does Gryffindor even _have_ any points left?"

"Suffice it to say, you are not the only Gryffindor with the ability to sever my patience."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she took a seat. _What patience?_

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

The sleeping potion had been delivered Friday night, as promised, and Hermione had enjoyed an entire weekends' worth of decent sleep. By the time Monday came around, she found that she had much more energy to spend on her classes, homework, and prefect responsibilities. She also found, however, that she had more energy to spend on worrying.

_So much for reducing anxiety_, she thought sadly as she made her way towards the corridor outside of McGonagall's quarters.

Snape ascended from the staircase at exactly the same time as she arrived, and the two of them walked in silence towards the hidden passage. With her gaze fixed on the back of his robes, she twisted her hands nervously. The realization of how much time had passed since their last renewal was something that had been gnawing at her all day.

"Granger, if you continue to fret over this exercise, it will not go well," he chided as he held open a door for her. "A self-fulfilling prophecy, if you will."

Hermione swallowed hesitantly and nodded, deciding it better to let him think her anxiety had to do with the next phase of her apparition lessons. Since she had competently travelled across several short distances the past week, Snape had decided she was ready to attempt a larger jump.

When they had passed beyond the wards, he silently held out his arm, and she took it without hesitation. A second later, they landed in the clearing.

"Nausea?"

The girl shook her head and straightened the edge of her jumper. "No, everything's fine."

Severus nodded and crossed his arms. "Apparate to the tree line."

She let out a deep breath, visualized herself appearing there, and almost instantly felt the pull of apparition. When it passed, she opened her eyes and found herself where he had instructed. She took in a few breaths and then apparated back to the middle of the clearing with a loud crack.

"You seem to have that much under control," he commented, stepping a circle around her in a scan for injuries. "Do you feel confident in that distance?"

Standing a little straighter, she nodded silently.

"Then it is time to increase the distance," he stated, fixing her with a steady gaze. "If you would, apparate to the passageway, and then back to the clearing. This is a larger distance, and as such, requires a greater deal of concentration. If after the first jump you do not feel comfortable in performing the second, do not attempt it. If you do not reappear in the matter of a few seconds, I will come for you. If you need assistance sooner, send me your patronus. Is that understood?"

Hermione nodded again and closed her eyes. She pictured the dark tunnel beneath the lake and expressed the immediate desire to be there. One squeamish second later, a loud popping sound indicated her arrival in the passageway. She opened her eyes to view her surroundings, and was hit with a sudden anxiousness. She was alone in the dark, and he was miles away.

_What if the bond reacts negatively? It's been so long already. What if something happens to him while I'm gone?_ Panicked, she threw the picture of the clearing into her mind and immediately was pulled there. She gave a small gasp of relief upon seeing his dark form, but then suddenly let out a pained cry and dropped to the ground.

Snape sprinted immediately to her side, scowling when he caught sight of the blood spilling out from her leg.

"Granger, try to stop fidgeting, and try not to look at it!" he yelled, pushing her hands out of the way. He pulled a dark green bottle from his robes and immediately began dripping the brown solution onto her wound.

"I don't know what happened!" she cried, shaking slightly against him. "What happened?"

"You've splinched yourself. That's what happened."

"Oh God," she grimaced, burying her face into his shoulder. "It hurts!"

"Of course it bloody hurts," he spat. "You've left a chunk of your leg behind somewhere in the ether."

She whimpered loudly and tried not to think of the image that accompanied his explanation.

"It isn't that bad, Granger. You've only managed a minor splinch. And if you would stop twitching, this would go faster."

"Okay, okay." She nodded against him as she finally registered the tingling in her leg. "What are you doing?"

"Applying Essence of Dittany," he answered gruffly. "It will help regenerate tissue and hopefully prevent future scarring."

"Oh," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"It's not my leg that you've ripped apart," he muttered.

She stayed quiet until the pain began to subside, and then suddenly realized how tired she was. Her eyelids began to droop, and she found she could not keep them open any longer.

When he felt her begin to sway against him, Severus dropped the jar of dittany and quickly reached for another flask.

"Granger," he hissed, grabbing hold of her chin and shaking her head. When her eyes opened, he pried open her mouth and poured in the potion. "Swallow."

She did as instructed and grimaced at the metallic taste. "Blood-Replenishing Potion?"

He nodded and glanced at her curiously.

"I remember it from last year," she answered quietly, resting her head back against his chest. "After the Ministry."

Snape raised his eyebrows in understanding, and returned to tending her leg. When he was satisfied that her skin had sufficiently stitched itself back together, he washed the blood off of her and then shifted his focus to her face. Upon seeing her skin had returned to its normal hue, he grunted and picked himself up from the ground. He held out his hand, and then pulled her to her feet. "Can you walk on it?"

Hermione shrugged and gingerly put weight on her leg. There was a small twinge when she stepped down, but other than that, there was no pain. Carefully, she picked her way across the grass and sat down on the stump. "I think it'll be okay."

He gave a nod and then bent to pick up the dittany container and the empty flask. He tucked them both into his pocket and walked towards her. "When you are rested, we will return to the castle. We are done for the evening."

Hermione nodded guiltily. "When can I try again?"

"Your leg will take time to heal properly, and you should not attempt apparition on your own until it has. You may try again the week after next _if_ you can overcome your hesitance."

"But I'm not hesitant about it!" she argued. "I _know_ I can do it!"

He pointed to her leg. "_That_ tells me otherwise."

"I freaked out a little, yes, but it wasn't the jump I was worried about!"

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Then what was it?"

She sighed and dropped her eyes to the ground. "It's been almost three weeks."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, and nodded. "I know."

"But it's been every two weeks so far. Why would it change?"

The wizard crossed his arms and sighed. "It was my thought that the nerve damage you sustained prior to the bonding may have had an effect on the magic's strength. I had wondered that if we could repair them further, it might extend the time in between renewals."

Hermione took in a deep breath. "The potion."

"Yes."

"So how long do we have?"

The man shook his head. "No idea."

After a few minutes of silence, he shifted uncomfortably and stared at his feet. "If you would prefer to –"

"No," she whispered quickly. "Can't we just wait and see how long we have?"

Snape nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish."

The girl nodded emphatically. "It is."

He let out another sigh and shifted his gaze to the dusky sky. He waited until he heard her grow restless before he shifted his attention back to her. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She pushed off of the stump and walked towards him. When he did not immediately produce his arm to her, she frowned and glanced up to find him avoiding her eyes. "What is it?"

"You should not put any weight on your leg, even during side along. You run the risk of re-opening the wound."

"So you're saying…."

"I have to carry you."

"Oh." Hermione felt heat creep into her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. She then took in a deep breath, shrugged her shoulders, and glanced back at him. "Okay then."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus had known it was coming. He had kept it in the back corner of his mind, hoping the nerve-rebuilding properties of his potion had extended the life of the bond. When he had heard from Remus that Hermione had been in the infirmary, he had worried that she was experiencing pain again. Though it was unlikely that she would go to the school nurse now, when she had never gone before, it still had been nagging at him. And ever since her mishap during apparition, the dread of its inevitability had been weighing heavily on his mind.

He had tried to prepare himself mentally, knowing that the magic in their bond was slowly running out. He had recognized the immediacy of its arrival when she had shown up to his Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning classes with dark circles under her eyes. She had been taking the sleeping potion every night, yet it seemed to have suddenly stopped working. He knew it was the dark magic that was interfering with its efficacy, and that soon she would have to come to him.

He had known it was coming, but when her wide-eyed otter had flitted across his consciousness in a frenzied state in the very small hours of Thursday morning, he was still gripped by a sense of panic. He had quickly thrown on his teaching robes and had all but sprinted to the seventh floor to meet her at the Room of Requirement.

She had looked absolutely miserable standing there. Her hair had been mussed from her undoubted tossing and turning, and her skin tone once again rivaled his own pallor. Sweat had beaded up on her forehead, and her school robes had been haphazardly thrown on over her pajamas. Her eyes had been wide with fear, and he suspected that she had been fighting desperately to quell the rising panic.

It had made his gut turn to know that he could instill those feelings in someone. As soon as he could manage it, he had switched off his emotions, and dealt with the situation in as clean a manner as he could. He knew that his disgust and guilt would come roaring back with a vengeance, but he had to force himself to shut them out during the encounter. They would only inhibit his ability to perform, and he had to be able to come to completion to renew the bond. It was the only way to keep her body and mind functioning.

As he withdrew his limp member from within her, he felt the first crack in his shields. Her small body was perfectly still as she stared blankly at the wall. He spun around quickly, trying desperately to ignore the similarity of the present situation to those of his nightmares. He immediately snatched up his pants and trousers, dressing as fast as he possibly could. He had to get out of there before his emotions took hold and he broke down in front of the girl. His mother's sobs were echoing through his mind, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he was on his knees.

As his hand touched the door handle, the cries became louder. Another twinge of guilt tore at him as he realized that the sobbing was not in his head, but in the room. He closed his eyes and gathered his strength before turning around again.

Hermione had managed to replace her knickers and pajama bottoms in the time it had taken him to dress, and she now sat at the foot of the bed. Her arms were wrapped around her midsection, and huge tears were rolling down her face.

"Miss Granger?" he managed to creak out. When that garnered no response, he took a few steps towards her and tried again. "Hermione?"

She looked at him through red-rimmed eyes and immediately turned her head away in shame.

"Just go," she whispered.

As much as he was tempted to do as she requested, Severus knew he could not leave her in such a state. He continued stepping towards her and cautiously moved to sit opposite her on the bed.

At the feel of the mattress shifting, the girl pushed off of the bed and walked towards the wall. She leaned her head against the taupe-colored plaster and let out a shuddering sigh.

He took a few seconds to quell the churning of his stomach and then wiped his face. "Are you injured?"

There was a soft whimper as she shook her head and turned her face away from him. "Please just leave."

"Miss Granger," he attempted again. "Tell me what is wrong."

"Tell you what's wrong?" she repeated quietly. "What's _wrong_? What _isn't_ wrong?"

The witch turned away from the wall, and he could see the fire burning beneath her tears. "What's wrong is I can't _not_ tell you what's wrong!"

Severus felt another surge of guilt crash into him. He had not meant to force her under threat of pain to answer him, but had chosen his words carelessly. _Again._

"What's wrong!" she continued, her voice growing louder as she began to pace the width of the room. "How could you even ask such an _asinine_ question? What the hell isn't wrong? Honestly, Professor! He's turned me into your little whore, and I hate it!"

His eyes widened and he shook his head. "You're not –"

But Hermione offered him no chance to speak as she faced him with an accusing glare. "Do you know how _humiliating_ it is – having to crawl into bed, having to beg you to fuck me just so I can keep breathing? _Do_ you?

"And I can't _tell_ anyone, because no one can know about it! So I lie, and lie again and again, until I can't even remember all of the lies I've told! How could I possibly be okay with that?"

She took in a deep breath and resumed her pacing.

"He's turned me into a whore, you've turned me into a liar, and I don't even know what the hell I've turned myself into! I feel like I'm going completely mental – or maybe I already have! I'm barely holding it together, and I know everyone else sees it. I'm so sick of their pity and their concern! I'm so sick of being stared at and discussed like I'm some stupid project!

"But, of course, they can't know the real reason why I'm so messed up, so they all come up with their own theories – I _know_ they do. Harry seems to think I'm upset over my stupid marks, but the truth is I couldn't care less about them! Madam Pomfrey thinks I'm taking on too much, but if I don't keep myself busy, I know I'll be worse! And Remus! Christ, Remus probably thinks I have lycanthropy or something.

"And you know what? I think lycanthropy would actually be preferable! So once a month I'd have to drink a potion, turn into a snarling beast, and hide myself away so I don't kill anyone. There isn't a woman alive who doesn't have to do that anyway!

"But this….this… I hate this!"

She leaned against the chair for a moment, catching her breath and making futile attempts at wiping away her tears.

Snape stared at her, paler than usual with his mouth slightly parted in shock. His mind was reeling, replaying her rant repeatedly as he searched for the right thing to say. Nothing came to mind, and he helplessly watched as she hastily grabbed her school robes and disappeared from the room.

He stared at the door for several minutes before he found the ability to stand. With a sigh, he crossed towards the exit and slipped out into the darkened corridor. He walked aimlessly through the hallways, trying to determine whether he should go after her or just do as she said - slink back to his quarters and let her be.

Eventually he found himself facing the concerned expression of a lion cub.

"Fetch her," he instructed the painted feline. "Now!"

The cub disappeared in the blink of an eye, and returned a few minutes later. The frame of the painting extended into the shape of a door, which was suddenly yanked open to reveal a very startled and rumpled-looking deputy headmistress.

"Severus!" she called, concern etched on her face. "Whatever is the matter?"

The wizard gave a pained scowl and pushed past her into the dimly lit sitting room.

"Well, why don't you just come in and make yourself at home, then?" Minerva muttered grumpily as she pushed the door shut. Crossing the length of the room, she dropped into her chair and straightened the skirts of her tartan nightrobes. "It's two in the bloody morning, Severus. Either spit it out, or get out."

Snape sighed, turning away from the fire and collapsing onto the green sofa. "It's Miss Granger."

The woman immediately stiffened and stared at him with wide eyes. "Is she injured?"

He shook his head.

"Is she in trouble?"

"No," he answered quietly.

"Was she…was she summoned?" she asked with hesitance. When he shook his head again, she sighed and crossed her arms. "Well, then what is it?"

The man exhaled loudly and closed his eyes. "She's upset."

"Upset?" she repeated in surprise.

"She was crying," he explained further.

"She was _crying_?" Minerva rubbed her hand against her temples. "For the love of all that is Quidditch! You pulled me out of bed in the dead of night because _she was crying_? What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?"

He shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I did not know what to do."

"Of course you didn't." She gave a frustrated sigh and leaned back in her chair. "You hold her – that's what you do."

Severus looked at her in disbelief. "I highly doubt she would want me to do that. She asked that I leave."

"Please tell me that you didn't," she groaned, closing her eyes.

"I stayed long enough to have her scream at me and storm out!"

"And like an idiot, you let her go," McGonagall hypothesized.

"What was I supposed to do?" he shouted. "Barricade her in the room?"

"No, of course not," she shook her head. "You go after her, and show her that you actually care!"

"She wanted me to leave."

"She's a woman, Severus. We don't know what we want."

The wizard grimaced and looked away. A minute later, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and ran a hand through his hair. "She said she would have preferred lycanthropy."

"Preferred it to what? To you? In all your charming glory?" Minerva mocked bitterly. "I think I would agree with her."

At his wounded look, she sighed and pushed two fingers against her forehead. "I take it the two of you just…"

He nodded slowly as she trailed off.

"Merlin, I can't believe I'm asking this," she muttered. "How did it go?"

"What do you mean, 'How did it go'?" Snape snapped. "It had to be done, and so it was! Except at the end of it, she started crying and shouting about how the Dark Lord's turned her into a whore!"

McGonagall winced visibly. "Were you gentle with her?"

"Of course I was!" he spat angrily.

"You didn't hurt her?"

"No!" He crossed his arms and straightened in his seat. "I even gave her the potion again to make sure she didn't feel any pain."

"The anesthetic one?" she asked concernedly. "You think she'll be in pain every time?"

"Not if it's taken care of in time," he responded. "But I didn't want to take any chances."

Minerva rubbed her hand over her eyes and sighed. "Well, it's no wonder she's upset."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he snarled.

"Severus, you've taken away her ability to feel anything physically and you've taught her how to shut out her fears. The only thing she has left to focus on is her own humiliation. That and your….satisfaction. It makes perfect sense why she would feel used."

"How on Earth does _that_ make perfect sense?"

The witch sighed and folded her arms against her chest. "Severus, how many sexual relationships have you been in?"

"What!" He launched up from the couch. "I don't see how that's any of your business!"

"Would you settle down?" she barked. "I'm not asking you how many times you've had sex. I'm asking how many real relationships you've been involved in."

At his foreboding expression, she let out a loud breath and shook her head. "I thought as much."

Snape pinched his eyes into a glare. "And just when was I supposed to have these intimate relationships – and with whom, exactly? Which side would she have had to have been on? Which master would she have had to assume I served? Would I have risked her life by letting her into mine?"

"Severus, sit down!" Minerva commanded, gesturing forcefully with her finger. "I'm not passing judgment. I'm simply pointing out the fact that you have as little of experience dealing with these matters as she does, despite the fact that you're twice her age."

"Thank you, Minerva," he mumbled as he angrily dropped back onto the couch. "I'd quite forgotten that."

"Oh, grow up!" she snapped with a glare. "The time for your wallowing in self-pity has passed. Accept it and move on! The fact is that you and Miss Granger are now forever connected. Think of it as an arranged marriage if you have to."

The man groaned audibly.

"Hush." She held up a hand to quell his protest. "Disturbing as it is, it's not that far off of the mark. You need to work this out, because if she continues to feel as though she's being used like some trollop in Knockturn Alley, she's going to grow to hate you. And as much as you claimed that to be preferable, you do not want it to actually happen."

"I'm not using her like that!" he hissed, his voice creaking in desperation. "I've never used anyone like that!"

"I know, I know," McGonagall said calmly. "I know that, but only because I've known you for nearly a quarter of a century. But Hermione hasn't, and for all she knows, you could be sneaking off there every other weekend."

Snape grimaced and crossed his arms as he stared at the fireplace. "It's just…It's just that every time I have to touch her, in the back of my mind, I see that annoying frizzball of an eleven-year old with her hand extended so far into the air that you'd be worried it would detach and float away, and I just want it to be over with as quickly as it can."

"And that's exactly what you need to tell her," she nodded.

"What – that she was annoying?" he attempted a smirk. "She's well aware of that already."

Minerva narrowed her eyes dangerously. "Don't make me hit you."

"I can't tell her any of this," he sighed. "I've given her enough to hide from the Dark Lord."

"That's what's bothering you the most, isn't it?" the witch asked. A small smile crossed her face. "I think you can rest a little easier, Severus. Albus has been bent-out-of-shape for the past month over the fact that she keeps shutting him out of her head entirely."

"But there's a difference between Albus's sickeningly-polite probing, and the Dark Lord's," he countered. "The Dark Lord does not care about subtlety. He will tear his way through your mind with as much force as he can manage and rip the memories from you with little regard for your mental or physical well-being. If he can extract tears or screams from you along with whatever he's looking for, so much the better for him."

Her eyes widened exponentially and she started twisting the fabric of her night robes. "Is there anything you can do…to…to better prepare her for that?"

Severus took in a deep breath and picked at his fingernail. "Not without duplicating the conditions myself."

He glanced up at her with a pointed gaze. "I will not do that. I've scarred her enough for ten lifetimes. I don't need to add to it."

The deputy headmistress closed her eyes and shook her head nervously. "I would never ask you to do that, Severus."

He nodded slowly and leaned back against the settee.

She let him brood for a few minutes before speaking again. "Hermione just needs reassurance from you. She needs to know that she's doing what you want her to do. She needs to know that you trust her.

"No matter how you see her, she isn't just your student any more. She's your partner, whether you like it or not."

The Slytherin Head gave a soft sigh and stood.

"You are the only man she will ever know, Severus. Do not forget that."

His shoulders slumped slightly as he nodded and turned towards the door.

"And the next time she has a late night breakdown, you are going to deal with it on your own. Because if you interrupt my sleep again for anything short of an emergency, you will be assigned to every Hogsmeade weekend for the entirety of your employment."

Snape snorted as he pulled open the door. "How fortunate that my life is likely to expire shortly."

"If you really believed that," she called out as he stepped into the hall, "you wouldn't have bothered to come here."

As the door shut with a click, Minerva rolled her eyes and pushed out of her chair.

"Idiot."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus let out a deep breath as he crossed the moonlit grounds in the direction of the lake. After thinking about it, he knew that Minerva was right. Hermione was carrying so many damning memories in her head that surely one more could not do any more harm.

As he neared the collection of boulders, the shivering form atop the largest rock glanced suddenly in his direction.

"What do you want?" she whispered when he stood beside her.

He sighed upon seeing the shiny tracks of tears still upon her cheeks. "I would like to speak with you."

Hermione frowned and tried to fight off another round of shivers as she shoved the amethyst necklace back under her shirt. "Then speak."

He opened his mouth to talk, but then noticed how tightly she had wrapped her robes around her. He remembered the thin fabric of her pajamas and scowled. With a sigh, he unfastened his outer robes, and draped them across her shoulders.

The girl looked up at him in surprise, but pulled them tighter around her frame. Taking that as a good sign, he silently cast a warming charm upon the rock and faced her.

"Miss Granger, I need you to understand that I don't….that I don't…." He paused, trying to figure out what to say. When he noticed that she was staring at him expectantly, he finally managed to stumble over his words. "I don't think of you as anything that even resembles a prostitute."

He felt like a complete dunderhead standing there, but when a trace of a smile crossed her face, he decided not to dwell on it.

Hermione wiped at her eyes and sniffled. "Well, as awkward as that sounds… Thank you. I really shouldn't have yelled at you. I just couldn't hold it in any longer."

Snape shook his head. "It's not as though you have anyone else to yell at."

"Not exactly, no," she sighed, resting her chin on her knees.

A few minutes passed in which they both stared silently at the dark water. Eventually, the Potions Master cleared his throat.

"This isn't easy for me, either," he stated quietly.

The young witch inhaled deeply and nodded against her knees.

"To be perfectly honest," he continued, "I think I would prefer dealing with a werewolf if I were in your position."

She winced as she looked up at the nearly full moon, and then replaced her chin on her knees. "I didn't really mean that. It just kind of slipped out."

"It is of no matter," the man responded. "How is your leg healing?"

"Fine, I think." Hermione absently rubbed the spot on the side of her thigh. "It's stopped itching at any rate."

He nodded and then glanced back at the castle. "It is quite late, Miss Granger. You should get some rest, seeing as you _are_ required to deal with a werewolf in a few hours."

The girl gave a tearful laugh and squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't remind me. You wouldn't happen to have any pointers as to how to keep him from staring at me, would you?"

"I have several suggestions," he smirked, "none of which, however, will I tell you."

"It was worth the attempt," she muttered, taking his extended hand and accepting his help as she descended from the boulder.

"Indeed." She made a move to return his robes, but he shook his head. "There's still a bit of a walk, and it's not getting any warmer."

"I suppose I should remember to grab my jumper the next time I have an emotional breakdown," the girl mumbled as she started in the direction of the castle.

Severus snorted in disbelief and moved to catch up to her. They had been walking for several paces when she hesitantly opened her mouth.

"Professor?"

He grunted in response, and she continued.

"Could you stop giving me full marks?"

"What?" he asked, stopping suddenly.

She sighed and crossed her arms. "You've given me an 'O' on every assignment so far. And since you've never done that before, it makes me feel cheap. Like I'm sleeping with you to get a better grade. I just want to get the marks I've actually earned."

"My apologies," he stated. "I had not considered that."

"Thank you," she whispered as they continued walking.

When they reached the castle entry, Hermione slipped out of his robes and handed them back to him. He accepted them without a word and proceeded to follow her up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," he stated a few yards shy of the Fat Lady's portrait.

As he turned to leave, she called out to him. "Wait, Professor!"

He turned around with a raised brow.

The girl shifted nervously on her feet and looked at him with anticipation. "Are you going to take away points? I'm pretty sure I was just out past curfew."

Severus looked at her in utter astonishment. When he had recovered a few minutes later, he straightened his shoulders. "Two points from Gryffindor."

"Only two?"

"Two points," he repeated, "and a detention. Report to my classroom promptly at seven o'clock tonight."

"But it's Thursday," she whined. "I'm supposed to meet with you anyway."

Snape feigned innocence as he shrugged and spun away from her. "Good night, Miss Granger."


	31. Inconvenient Suitors, Inevitable Truth

**A/N: I worked really hard to get this update done this weekend. I had planned on leaving this chapter on another cliffhanger, but since I don't know how soon I'll be able to post again, I figured it wouldn't be fair to leave you all hanging. Anywho, it's Finals Week this week, and I'll be moving into an apartment and starting my new summer job, so I won't have much time to work on an update until everything gets settled. I thank you in advance for your patience.  
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**On an awesome note, I am so excited to look at the Stats for this story. 700+ reviews, 500+ alerts, and 300+ favorites! Wow. That is seriously more than all of my other stories combined!  
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**Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews - Zoek80, HPFanGirl01, TealSwan, livebyinsanity, gravity01, xSiriusxstalkerx, Sev01, woodshark, earley1991, Startled Boris, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Petite Mule, melonka, maggerita, Jabberwocky92, AllyZ, Sezao1, Jen Lennon, Aubrey'Snape, alicehs, Lil Tine, silverose29, Jinx452, Mel, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, Eebaral Knight, cypris88, ineverdothis, BlooDsucKkerR69, Lyra Lupin, Phoenixica24, Lover of Fantasy, hnwhitlock2000, callalily32, Angelwells, Stacy Vorosco, La muta larmo, Slinkee, lloralalluvia, cinnamin, Je, severus49, Vana1818, snapefan520, clio, IHeartBranson, Tilly, sirli, KittyPimms, anon, mairamout, and DedicatedReader!  
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**I'm glad you're not all upset about the lack of pregnancy.  
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* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 31  
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At precisely seven o'clock that evening, Hermione pushed open the door to the Potions classroom. Snape was not in sight, but she could hear the tinkling of glass from the storeroom. Six cauldrons were set up on the tables, each simmering cheerfully under their stasis charms. Peering into one, she realized that these were the NEWT-level students' potions.

"If you're looking to further your skills as a saboteur, Mr. McLaggen's cauldron is the one over there."

The girl glanced up to see the Potions Master exit the storeroom and lazily gesture to a lab bench on the other side of the room. She frowned and stepped closer to the front of the room. "As tempting as that sounds, I'm here to serve my detention – not earn another one."

"Very well then," Snape responded with a quirk of his eyebrows. He set a wire basket down on his desk and stepped back towards the storeroom. "If you would follow me."

She quickly caught up to him, wondering whether he was going to have her straighten out the shelves. He said nothing, however, as they passed by the rows of carefully labeled jars. When they reached the far wall, Hermione stared curiously at the door that was there. She had noticed it whenever she had ventured into the room for ingredients and had always wondered where it led. As Snape drew his wand and unlocked the door, she stood on her tiptoes to see over his shoulder.

The door opened with its hinges creaking loudly from years of neglect. The wizard stepped across the threshold and held the door open long enough for her to pass into the room. Glancing around, she was surprised to see that the space was an exact replica of the Potions classroom they had just left, though the lab benches had all been shoved against the walls.

"There are two classrooms?" she asked, glancing back at him.

The man gave a small nod as he shut the door. "Some time ago, there used to be two instructors. Until one of them stroked out during a lesson, and no replacement could be found within a reasonable time. Professor Slughorn took over the remainder of his classes for the rest of the year, and then taught that way for several decades before I replaced him."

"And in all that time, they didn't just hire a second professor? That seems rather ridiculous."

Severus shrugged. "The Ministry, by way of the Board of Governors, wouldn't permit the funding. Why do with two what you've proven you can do with one?"

She rolled her eyes at the thought and stepped farther into the room. "Typical."

"It certainly is a pattern with them," he said with a tilt of his head. "Why do think there are so many unused classrooms? Potions was the last holdout with two instructors – simply because it takes more time than any of the other courses."

After a brief pause, she turned to face him. "How many classes do you teach exactly?"

"What is the purpose of this line of inquiry?" He stared at her with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm just curious. I've never really considered it before, I guess. I know how many Potions classes I've had to take over the years, but I've never put it into perspective."

He sighed and scratched his head. "Four classes a piece for the first through fourth years, six total for the fifth years, and three each for the sixth and seventh years."

"Twenty-eight classes?" Her mouth dropped in shock. "A _week_? Merlin, no wonder you hate us all."

Snape snorted and strode into the center of the room. "We aren't here to discuss my workload."

"Then what are we here for?" she asked with a smirk. "You haven't offered an alternative yet."

The wizard glanced at her in amusement as he proceeded to unfasten his teaching robes. He then tossed them onto one of the lab tables and withdrew his wand. "I believe it's time we start improving your personal defense."

"Is that not the point of taking Defense Against the Dark Arts?" the girl questioned, removing her own robes and neatly folding them in half. She tried not to laugh at the horrible glare he sent in her direction, and placed her robes on the table next to his. She stepped back with her wand in her hand and tilted her head at him. "What are we doing first?"

"We're going to work on your reflexes," he answered, pulling himself to his full height. "Expelliarmus!"

The witch gave a slight cry of surprise as her wand flew out of her hand and into his. At his smirk, she frowned and crossed her arms. "I wasn't ready!"

"That's exactly the point," he muttered, stiffly handing back her wand.

Hermione sighed as she snatched it back from him. "Fine."

He lifted an eyebrow and then turned and walked away. A few seconds later, he suddenly spun and spat out the same spell.

"Protego!" she shouted a split second later. It was too late, however, and her wand clattered to the ground halfway between them. A groan escaped her lips as she moved to retrieve it. No sooner than she had picked it up, did he disarm her again.

"You have to learn to anticipate it, Miss Granger," Severus explained when she glared at him.

The girl let out a frustrated grunt and turned away from him to fetch her wand. A smirk crept onto her face, and she quickly spun around. "Expelliarmus!"

Snape easily deflected the shot with a silent protection charm, and volleyed another disarming spell at her.

"You're reading my mind, aren't you?" she glared accusingly. "_That_ isn't fair!"

He shook his head. "I don't need to read your mind when I can read your body language. You relaxed slightly as you grabbed your wand, which indicated to me exactly what you were planning. The moment you extended your wand arm, I cast the shielding charm. You cannot wait until you hear the curse being sent your way before responding to it. Furthermore, you cannot depend on being able to hear it at all. A nonverbal spell can cause just as much damage, as you well know."

She shivered slightly as he gestured toward her shoulder.

"You need to react proactively," he continued. "If you can concentrate on your opponent and your surroundings with as much care as you did your mental barriers, you will be able to anticipate any threat and respond with much greater speed."

The young Gryffindor let out a deep breath and nodded slowly. "You aren't going to make this easy, are you?"

"How would that benefit your abilities?"

Hermione shrugged as she collected her wand. "It wouldn't I guess, but it would make me feel better."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Two hours later, Hermione rubbed at the tension forming in her neck as she walked down the corridor towards the Fat Lady's portrait. She quietly spoke the password and stepped out of the way as the picture swung open. As she scrambled through the hole, she winced slightly at the tightening in her thigh. Her entire body was sore from her defense session with Snape, and the new flesh that was covering her splinching wound was beginning to pull. A warm bath was sounding more and more desirable with every second that passed.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ron called out, causing Cormac to raise his head where he sat in a chair next to the fire.

The girl let out a small sigh at the sight of the two of them, but quickly schooled her expression as she walked towards her friend. "You're back early, Ron."

The redhead nodded, gesturing towards the window. "Freezing rain. Harry called off practice early."

"Oh," she whispered. When she caught sight of the hungry look Cormac was sending her way, she grimaced and turned her back towards him. "Where is Harry?"

"Some meeting with Dumbledore," he shrugged, flipping through a Quidditch magazine. "He intercepted us on the way in, and Harry hasn't been back since."

"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked with a confused look.

"Dunno exactly," he mumbled. "Maybe about an hour?"

"It's been an hour and fifteen minutes since we returned," McLaggen interrupted, standing from his chair and moving towards them. "I made a note of the time."

"How lucky for us," Ron grumbled, tossing his magazine to the side.

"Thank you, Cormac," she said sharply. When the older boy continued to stand next to her, she groaned internally. He had been singling her out and attempting to strike up conversation with her ever since the week following the Quidditch tryouts. She had been politely trying to dispel his attention, knowing it was only a matter of time before he tried to take it too far.

"Something else you need?" Ron asked bitterly.

"Actually," the attractive boy smiled and leaned coyly against the side of Ron's chair, "it's a Hogsmeade weekend this weekend. I was wondering, Granger, if you wouldn't mind accompanying me."

"Oh, erm…" Hermione cursed silently and glanced nervously at Ron's horrified expression. "…well, that's really nice of you, Cormac, but –"

"Brilliant," he interrupted, flashing her with a pearly white smile. "I'll meet you here at ten on Saturday."

"No, Cormac –"

"Oi! She was going to say no, you idiot!" Ron shouted over her at the boy's retreating form. "She already has plans to go with _us_ to Hogsmeade."

McLaggen turned around and shrugged. "Surely the two of you can spare her for one day. Let her have a spot of fun now and then."

"She has plenty of _fun_ with us!" the younger boy countered. "We _always_ go together."

"And you can't make an exception?" came the arrogant reply.

"No," Ron said confidently, crossing his arms.

"Alright then," Cormac smiled, "you and Harry can tag along if it's that much of a problem."

"_What_?"

Hermione closed her eyes and groaned. She knew that Ron was about two seconds away from jumping out of his chair and starting something that they were all going to regret. He had just been reinstated as a Prefect to top it all off.

"Listen!" she shouted, causing both boys to remember she was still standing there. "I'm not going with either of you!"

"What?" Ron repeated.

"Then who are you going with?" Cormac asked with a haughty gaze.

"I'm not going with anyone, because I'm not going!" the girl huffed, crossing her arms. "I can't go."

"What do you mean you can't go?"

Hermione sighed and looked down at the floor. "I have detention."

"_You_? Have detention?"

"Yes, Ronald," she hissed. "_I _have detention. With Professor Snape."

"How did _you_ get a detention?" McLaggen asked, staring at her with a calculating look.

"I…I was out after curfew," she stammered quickly. "Last night, and he found me."

She ignored the indignant remarks against Snape that both of them were spewing, and looked over towards the corner of the room where Ginny was eyeing her with a confused look. Deciding that she was finished dealing with the boys, she bid them good night and moved towards the staircase that led to her room.

"You were in bed before I was," Ginny whispered as she fell into line behind the other girl. "How were you out after curfew?"

"I couldn't sleep," she answered without looking back. "I snuck out after you and Mattie were asleep and went for a walk."

"Oh." The younger girl followed her halfway up the stairs before opting to return to Dean's side. "Sorry about the detention, Hermione. Hopefully he won't be too horrible."

"Thanks," the brunette muttered. When she was alone again, she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her temples. _This would have been hard enough without the stupid binding._

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus paused in his grading and looked up from his desk in time to see McLaggen's head drop back down. He narrowed his gaze at the tall boy and then continued slicing through essays. When the handful of seventh-years began to bottle their potions, he moved his stack of papers and pushed the wire basket to the front edge of his desk. He ignored the clinking of glass bottles as they turned in their work.

When a throat cleared, he looked up in disinterest to see that McLaggen had hung back from the rest of the class, who were all slipping out into the hallway.

"What do you want?" he spat, highly displeased by the smug look on the boy's face.

"Professor, I was wondering if I could talk to you about Hermione Granger."

Snape glared at the student as he tried to figure out to what the boy could possibly be referring. The only thing he could think of was that perhaps the boy had learned of the Confundus charm. He quickly dismissed that, however, knowing that the boy's head was denser than a rock. If he had not seen it for himself, he would never have believed the boy capable of producing a decent potion, let alone earning an 'O' in his Potions OWL.

"I was told that you had given her detention over tomorrow's Hogsmeade visit, and I thought maybe you wouldn't mind renegotiating the time," Cormac continued with a hopeful smile. "Surely you have things you'd rather do on a Saturday than supervise detention."

The Potion Master's brow furled at the request. He had never given the girl detention, so why was she telling people that he had? On a Saturday, no less. There were only a few students with whom he had ever found the need to torture with a ruined weekend. Potter and Weasley would be among them, but certainly not Hermione.

Not to mention that Minerva had assigned him to be one of the unfortunate chaperones for the Hogsmeade visit in retaliation for his late night visit.

Even if he had not given the girl detention, he found himself growing increasingly irritated with the student standing in front of him.

"What would possibly give you the idea that I would ever consider it?" Severus sneered, dropping his quill and sitting tall.

McLaggen shirked back slightly and his smile faltered for a second. "Well, you see…I was planning on taking her around Hogsmeade tomorrow. She's seemed so out-of-sorts lately, and I've heard the rumors about her family. I thought I could perhaps take her mind off of things."

"And you thought I would bend over backwards to accommodate your romantic outing?" The man narrowed his eyes into angry slits. "Do you have a brain left in your head, or have you let Potter knock it out with a Quaffle?"

"I meant no disrespect, sir." The student shifted nervously and crossed his arms behind his back. "I just thought you might be willing to consider it."

"Oh, I've considered it," Snape muttered heatedly. "You can tell Miss Granger that, thanks to you, her detention has just been doubled. And if you aren't out of my sight in the next five seconds, you will be spending a week toiling under the eye of Mr. Filch!"

McLaggen's face visibly paled, and he immediately made for the exit. As the door snapped shut, Severus leaned back in his chair and shook his head in utter disbelief. He briefly considered tearing off to find Hermione and question her on the matter. He knew she had a free period before lunch, and would spend it in the library as usual. He, however, did not have any time to spare, as he could already hear the next grouping of little monsters lining up behind the door.

With a sigh, he set the chalkboard to writing out the third years' assignment and resigned himself to wait until the lunch hour to confront her.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"Granger!"

Hermione jumped as McLaggen nearly barreled into her at the door to the library.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry," he stammered, grabbing hold of her arms and pulling her close. "I don't know what I was thinking!"

Immediately she wrenched out of his grasp and took a step back from him. With her brow wrinkled in confusion, she glanced about the library. Seeing Madam Pince's reproachful look, she sighed and pushed the taller boy out into the hallway. "What are you talking about, Cormac?"

"I thought maybe if I talked to him, maybe he'd act like a human being for once," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Who?"

"Snape," he whispered, giving her another apologetic glance.

Her eyes went wide, and she ran both hands through her hair. "What did you do?"

"I asked if he wouldn't mind switching the day of your detention."

"You did WHAT?" The witch shook her head in disbelief. "Are you completely daft?"

"He asked me the same thing, actually," Cormac shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, shouted it at me, more or less. And then he doubled your detention."

Hermione closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. She had never planned on Snape knowing that she had used a detention with him as an excuse. She never honestly suspected anyone of being foolish enough to mention it to him, let alone try to convince him of anything. No one in their right mind would even dare.

Feeling his hand wrap around her arm again, she threw her eyes open and jerked away from him. "Please don't."

"I said I was sorry, alright?" he responded hotly. "I only did it to do something nice for you."

"You didn't need to do that," she shook her head. "I didn't ask you to do that."

"But I wanted to," Cormac explained, taking another step towards her. He ignored her pained expression as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled. "So we could spend the day together."

The girl took another step backwards and silently cursed when her back hit the wall. "Cormac, I can't –"

"I know. We'll just have to wait until the next Hogsmeade weekend to go out."

"Cormac, you're not understanding me," she said, trying to move along the wall and get out of his reach. She gulped when he placed his hand against the stone next to her head.

"Or maybe we don't have to wait," he whispered, leaning in closer.

Hermione was planning to drop to the ground in an escape when a familiar, angry voice filled the corridor.

"McLaggen, Granger! Twenty points from Gryffindor!"

She nearly sagged with relief at the appearance of the Potions Master, and let out a deep breath when Cormac jumped away from her.

"I do _not_ wish to hear of your romantic exploits in class, and I certainly will _not_ tolerate being forced to witness them in the hallway!" Snape shouted, his eyes flaring dangerously. "McLaggen, you will report to Mr. Filch at seven-thirty tomorrow morning and will only be released at his discretion. Now get out of my sight!"

The boy's eyes widened in fear, and he quickly disappeared without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Miss Granger, a word," he spat, sweeping his dark glare to her. He then spun away from her and began stalking down the hallway.

The young witch swallowed nervously and followed his billowing robes.

When he reached the empty Charms classroom, he threw the door open and gestured to the room. "In."

Hermione let out a deep breath and passed by him to enter the classroom. She winced a second later when the door was slammed shut with a loud bang.

Severus took a second to silently cast a _Muffliato_, and then rounded on her. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry!" she shouted back. "I didn't know he would do that! I only planned on hiding out in the library all of tomorrow. I didn't think he'd actually confront you about my detention!"

The wizard pulled his eyebrows together and shook his head. "I'm not talking about your lying to him!"

"Then what _are_ you yelling about?"

"_That_!" he hissed, pointing angrily in the direction of the library. "Your cozy little interlude with that buffoon!"

"It wasn't cozy," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"No?" he sneered, leaning over her. "He was two seconds from shoving his tongue down your throat, and you were doing nothing to resist it!"

Her mouth dropped open and she straightened to her full height. "I was so! I was trying to slip away when you showed up! I wasn't going to _let_ him kiss me!"

"Well, it certainly didn't look that way to me!"

"Well, that's how it was!" She glared at him as he turned away from her. She took four angry huffs of air and then shook her head. "Why do you care anyway?"

"_Why_ do I care?" Snape snarled as he spun back to face her.

Hermione instantly regretted her question as he advanced on her.

"Perhaps _you've_ forgotten our new, little arrangement, Miss Granger, but _I _sure as hell have not!"

"I haven't forgotten it!" she hissed back. "How could I possibly?"

"Then perhaps you need a refresher course in what it actually entails! Or are you still hanging onto that death wish of yours?"

The girl narrowed her eyes in anger. "Just because the bond prevents me from having sex with anyone but you doesn't mean I can't just kiss someone else!"

A large growl escaped him as he kicked a desk in frustration. "Think, Granger! The dark magic binding us together was created during a time when 'just kissing' was viewed with the exact same regard as 'having sex'! Do you really want to risk your life on semantics?"

She felt all of the blood rush from her face and she reached tentatively behind her for a chair. Upon falling into one, she bent over at the waist and held her head in her hands. "So if he _had_ kissed me, I could have…"

"_Died_! Right there in the bloody corridor!"

Hermione let out a shaky breath, feeling slightly ill at the knowledge that she had been so innocuously close to death. "And you….I didn't know! I'm so sorry!"

Upon seeing her tearful face, Severus felt his rage beginning to melt into guilt. He knew that he should have explained it to her more carefully, instead of assuming that her teenage mind would come to the same conclusions as he had. He also knew that he should not have yelled at her so harshly. It was not her fault that the hormone-ridden boy had set his sights on her. It also was not her fault that he could not control his temper. Sighing, he crossed to one of the windows and tried to reign in the remnants of his anger.

"Miss Granger, I…," he paused, grabbing hold of the window sill and bowing his head. "Why does McLaggen think you have detention tomorrow?"

The girl sniffled loudly and pulled her feet up onto the edge of the chair. She let out a deep breath before answering. "When I got back to the common room last night, he asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him. I tried to tell him no, but he wouldn't listen. And then Ron got upset and started arguing with him over it. When I told them that I wasn't going with either of them, they wanted to know why. I was tired and didn't want to deal with them anymore, so I just said the first thing that came to mind. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"You could have told me," he said quietly.

"I didn't think you needed to know. I was just going to wait until they had all left, spend the day in the library, and then make up some story about scrubbing cauldrons." She sighed gently before narrowing her eyes and shaking her head in disbelief. "Honestly! Who would ever question _you_ on someone else's detention? _He's_ the one with the death wish, not me!"

Snape snorted softly and continued staring out at the grounds.

"Who knows – maybe this is my fault," she continued. "Maybe if I hadn't hexed him, he would have kept his mouth shut, and none of this would have happened."

The Slytherin Head frowned and shook his head. "Mr. McLaggen may have certain talents on the Quidditch pitch, but he has never shown possession of common sense. His voluntary ingestion of doxy eggs should be proof enough of that."

Hermione allowed herself a small smile. "Yes, but there's a difference between eating something to win a bet and confronting you without provocation."

"Based on what I just witnessed in the hallway, I would say that he had plenty of provocation."

She slammed her feet down onto the floor and stood tall. "I _wasn't _going to let him kiss me! _I'd_ rather eat doxy eggs!"

Severus turned back to face the room and knew from her expression that she was being sincere. He let out a deep breath and slowly nodded. "You will need to avoid situations like this in the future, which means that it is necessary that you discourage any of Mr. McLaggen's attentions. Weasley's as well."

"Easier said than done," she muttered gloomily. "Cormac, I could care less about. I'd push him into the lake if I thought it would solve anything. But Ron? I don't know what to do. I can't hurt him."

"Granger –"

"I know you don't want to hear this, Professor," she sighed. "But you're really the only person I can talk to. You already know more about me than I ever thought I would be comfortable with, and I absolutely _cannot_ talk to Professor McGonagall about this."

The man let out a dramatic sigh, but said nothing else.

"He's my best friend, and … and I love him. I don't know on what level, exactly, but I know that I do," she explained, staring at her hands. "You probably don't understand this at all, but if I hurt him – if I make him hate me – I will never forgive myself."

When no cutting comment was made in response to her admission, Hermione raised her head to look at him. For a few seconds, there was an odd look on his face, but when he noticed that her gaze had settle on him, it disappeared. He rolled his shoulders and cleared his throat.

"Perhaps we should make our way to the Great Hall before they stop serving lunch."

The witch raised her eyebrows in mild surprise and shrugged.

He stiffly moved past her, cancelled the _Muffliato_, and pushed open the door. He held it open for her and waited until she was out of sight before he let the door shut and let out a large breath. After wiping his face with his hand, he set off towards the staircase and headed in the direction of the staff entrance to the Great Hall.

"And where exactly have you been?" Minerva questioned as he took his seat at the staff table.

Snape glanced blithely at her and reached for a sandwich. "Dealing with two of your wayward cubs. That being said, I am more than disappointed to tell you that I am unable to chaperone tomorrow's outing."

"Oh, I'm sure you are." She rolled her eyes and set her napkin down with a sigh. "Are you going to tell me why I need to replace you?"

"I have a detention to supervise," he answered before taking a bite of his food.

The deputy headmistress exhaled loudly and exchanged a glance with Remus. "You planned that rather conveniently, haven't you? And just which one of my students are you so generously sacrificing your duties in order to punish?"

"That would be Miss Granger."

It took a great deal of strength for him not to laugh at the pair of looks he received. Lupin glanced in sudden concern towards the girl and then gave him a glare that reeked of betrayal, while Minerva appeared ready to strangle him.

"Whatever for?" she bit out, issuing him a warning glance.

Severus dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "For engaging in unsuitable behavior in the hallways."

"What?" they both hissed in unison.

"On a related note," he added, "you'll also find that Mr. McLaggen will be dedicating his Saturday to assisting Argus with whatever demeaning tasks deemed necessary."

McGonagall's eyes widened at the insinuation, and Remus's surprised gaze quickly swept between the two mentioned students. There was something else behind the werewolf's worried expression, but Severus was at a loss to figure out what it was.

"Isn't it about time for your sequestration?" Snape asked with a sneer.

Lupin immediately pulled his gaze back to the dark-haired wizard. He coughed slightly and then nodded. "I will stop by your office tomorrow evening for the Wolfsbane."

The Potions Master gave one nod and then pinched his lips together. He had the unsettling feeling that Lupin was trying to piece something together.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

When Hermione awoke the next morning, she was not the least bit surprised to find the folded scrap of parchment on her pillow.

**_Your detention will begin at noon. Report to our Monday meeting place._**

As she walked towards McGonagall's quarters, she could not help but think of the interchange that had taken place the day before. The look that had been on his face had invaded her thoughts ever since she had first seen it. It had not been until she was crawling into bed for the night that she had finally figured it out.

He knew. She was not sure how he did, but he understood exactly what she felt.

Upon catching sight of his dark-robed form leaning against the wall as he waited for her, she suddenly wondered who it was that he had loved. Or still loved?

Severus looked up at the sound of her shoes on the stone. Her brow was wrinkled in concentration, and he found himself curious about what she was thinking. When she noticed that he was staring, she raised her eyebrows in challenge.

"So is this a real detention, or another learning experience?"

The wizard narrowed his eyes. "All of my detentions are learning experiences."

"I suppose that's true," she shrugged, and then gestured down the corridor. "I thought you said it was too early for me to apparate yet."

"It is. We're not working on apparition today." He turned on his heel and began descending the staircase from which he had always appeared. "If you would follow me, Miss Granger."

Hermione bit her lip nervously and slowly stepped down the narrow staircase. The stairs rounded a corner and descended an entire story before stopping at a dead end. Two of the walls were covered by green and blue tapestries, while a painting of the Black Lake rested upon the third.

Snape touched the edge of the gilded frame, and the painting extended to the floor and swung open.

The girl glanced up at him before stepping into the room. A dark leather armchair sat facing the grey marble fireplace, with a small end table separating it from the matching sofa. One entire wall was covered in shelves stained dark cherry that were filled with books of every size and color, while a large wooden clock spanned the middle of the marble mantle. There was a door next to the fireplace, as well as one nearer the shelves.

She spun around to face him. "Are these your quarters?"

"They are," he answered, pulling the door shut. He then fixed her with a pointed look. "I trust none of your classmates will learn of their location."

She gave a small smile and shook her head. "No, sir."

The man nodded and strode further into the room. He stopped when he reached the couch and placed his hand on the back rest. "I have decided that our current surroundings would be the most suitable for this activity. We are least likely to be disturbed here."

"And what are we doing?" she asked, trying not to jump to conclusions.

Severus turned to her and extracted a small vial from his robes. He held it up to the light, and she could see that it was completely clear. "Do you know what this is?"

Her eyes widened at the question. "Please tell me that isn't what I think it is."

"As I am no longer forced to endure your thoughts, I am unable to say whether or not you are correct." He wrapped his fingers around the slender glass vial and sighed. "This, however, is Veritaserum."

Hermione let out a depressed sigh. "Isn't that illegal?"

"I can assure you, Miss Granger, that a vast majority of what we have been doing thus far would be viewed that way by the Ministry."

She frowned and stared at his hand in concern. "Why do you have it now?"

"While the Dark Lord relies on his powers as a Legilimens to see through dishonesty, many of his followers rely on other means," he explained. "We cannot assume that the Dark Lord will be the only one to ever question you."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between the vial and his face. "You told Harry that even Volde –"

"Do not say the name!" he hissed.

"Fine," she glared. "You told Harry that even _You-Know-Who_ would spill his secrets under Veritaserum, so how am I to keep mine?"

"It is true that Veritaserum is the most powerful truth serum known in the magical world, but it is not infallible," he clarified. "It works best upon those who are not expecting it or those who are not sufficiently skilled to protect themselves against it."

"So you lied to Harry, then?"

Snape rolled his eyes and ignored the question. "There is an antidote available, which is the easiest method of resistance. It is, however, an unlikely option in our situation. Occlumency, though, is a viable alternative. With your natural ability, I believe you will be among those who are immune to its effects…with practice, of course."

"Are _you_ immune to it?" she asked.

"I would not have lived nearly this long if I were not."

Hermione shivered and folded her arms against her chest. "I think I'd rather scrub cauldrons."

The wizard let out a long breath. "It is not painful."

At her continued hesitancy, Severus gave a frustrated sigh and unscrewed the cap. "Fine, I'll demonstrate."

She narrowed her eyes as she watched him squeeze three drops onto his tongue and then swallow it. He then stared at her in expectation. "Ask away."

_Ask what?_ The girl frowned. She was tempted to ask who he had loved on the off chance he was not able to resist the serum, but she knew that she would pay for it later. Sighing, she opted for a much easier question. "What is your name?"

"Remus Lupin," he answered with a sneer.

"How long does it take to actually be effective?" she asked, her brow raised in suspicion.

"Almost instantaneous," he responded. "It only takes a few seconds."

On the off chance he was lying to her on that regard, she waited nearly a full minute before asking another question. She knew she was taking a risk, but if he was as immune to the potion as he claimed to be, there was no threat of him divulging the information. "Why do you hate Harry?"

Snape's eyes tightened into a glare and he straightened his posture. "I am under no obligation to explain that to you. And if you've determined that I am not in pain and am perfectly able to lie under the serum's influence, then I suggest you take a seat on the sofa."

Hermione let out an aggravated breath, but crossed over to the couch and plopped onto it.

The man stood in front of her and filled the dropper with serum. "If you would open your mouth, Miss Granger."

She squeezed her eyes shut and apprehensively opened her mouth. Almost immediately she felt a cold drop hit her tongue. There was no taste to it, just wetness. A second later she felt him push her jaw closed.

"Swallow."

The witch did as instructed and then opened her eyes in surprise. "Just one drop?"

"One drop will be more than enough to challenge your abilities at the moment. Conquer one drop, and we'll proceed with two."

"How long does this last?" she wondered aloud. So far she felt completely normal. _Maybe he was lying after all._

"A few hours."

"And how do I know it's working?"

Severus smirked as he sat in his armchair. "What is your full name?"

"Hermione Jean Granger." Her eyes widened as the information practically supplied itself. There was next to no thought involved before she heard her own voice speaking.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Yes." Hermione swallowed nervously, recognizing just how difficult this was going to be. "How am I supposed to do this exactly?"

"Resisting Veritaserum is different than resisting Legilimency. Instead of fighting outside intrusion, you are in effect fighting yourself. The reason why Veritaserum is so much more dangerous than other truth serums is that it directly targets the subconscious area of thought. It does not require the conscious mind to relay the information." He leaned back in his chair. "With most truth serums, the conscious mind acts as a buffer, allowing enough time for the drinker to defend himself if able. Within the conscious mind, you are better able to manipulate information and cheat the effects of the serum. With Veritaserum, however, you need to shield your subconscious and divert the information."

"Divert it where? The conscious mind?" When he nodded, she rubbed her face. "Again, _how_ am I to do this?"

"Retreat into your mind," he answered. "Seek out the effect of the potion. Where you find it is where you should shield."

The girl closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. After a few minutes, she wrinkled her brow. "Okay, I think I found it."

"What does it feel like?"

"Numb," she answered immediately.

"You need to shield around it. That is from where your subconscious thoughts are being pulled," he responded. "It will be more difficult to hold your shields in place, as you are the one ultimately trying to reveal the information. You will always have more influence in your own mind than an outsider can have."

"Merlin, you should teach a class in this." When the wizard snorted, she cautiously opened one eyelid. "Did I just say that out loud?"

He nodded. "You did. Another danger of truth serum – your thoughts tend to be more free-flowing and are more likely to be vocalized."

"Fantastic."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Three hours later, Hermione stifled a yawn of boredom and leaned back against the leather sofa. For the past two hours, she had been able to lie with varying degrees of difficulty. When she had been able to do it several times without evidence of struggle, Snape decided that they needed to wait until the first dose had worn off before applying a stronger dosage.

"Do you still feel the pull?" he asked, looking up from the marking he had started while they were waiting. When she shook her head, he set down the stack of essays and pulled out the vial again.

"You'll find that with double the quantity of the serum, the numbing sensation in your mind will be twice as strong," he explained as he made his way towards her. "It will be that much easier to isolate, but also that much harder to control. Thankfully, though, stronger dosages do not have as long a period of efficacy as do lower doses."

"How much shorter is it?"

Snape let out a loud breath. "It's not exact, but it roughly follows the amount given. Two drops should only last about half as long as one drop."

"Well that's something," she muttered.

He grunted in agreement and then held up the dropper. Hermione took in a deep breath before opening her mouth. After swallowing the two drops of Veritaserum, she could almost feel the part of her mind numbing itself without even trying to. Focusing on the area, she immediately began attempting to build shields around it. As she worked at it, she comprehended just how much more effort it took.

"What is your full name?" he repeated for the thirtieth time that afternoon.

"Hermione Jean Granger." She groaned in disappointment. The pull was so much stronger this time.

After the twentieth truthful answer tumbled out of her mouth, she buried her head in her hands. "There's no hope."

Severus rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Give the histrionics a rest, Granger. There is only no hope if you stop trying."

"It's so much harder this time," she sighed. "It's like my thoughts are everywhere and I can't focus on my shielding."

"Of course it's more difficult," he sneered. "Full immunity to Veritaserum is something that takes several attempts. If it wasn't, there would be a much greater number of witches and wizards able to resist it. We've only been at this for four and a half hours. You've already accomplished more in one afternoon than most will ever manage in their lifetime."

Hermione smiled and dropped her eyes to the rug beneath her feet. The man had actually paid her a compliment. It was such a far cry from the Potions Master she had known for five years, and she was glad to have discovered that the cold, forbidding man was capable of kindness.

Suddenly, something clicked in her mind. Thoughts of Snape's love for someone and hatred of Harry seemed to swirl together and become intermingled until, oddly enough, they made sense.

"You loved _her_, didn't you?"

Severus's head snapped up. "What?"

"Harry thinks you protect him because of the life debt you owed his father. That's what Professor Dumbledore implied, but that isn't true, is it? With the number of times you've saved him already, the debt would have to be more than repaid. If there even was one, being that you were children. And really, with everything else he did to you, you shouldn't have owed him anything.

"The reason you hate Harry so much isn't just because of his father's treatment of you, but also because of her. His mum – she's the one you loved. She chose James instead, and that's why you can't stand Harry. It just makes so much more sense that way. Maybe it's because I'm a girl, and I tend to think about love more, but it just makes sense."

When she looked up, she saw that Snape had gone so pale that he was nearly translucent. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were glittering darker than she had ever seen them before.

Her stomach dropped as she realized that she had just said everything out loud. Slapping her hand over her mouth, she looked at him in fear. "Professor, I am so –"

"Get out."

"But, Professor…" Hermione trailed off at the sudden flare of pain over her spine.

"I said, 'GET OUT'!" he shouted, launching out of his chair.

The girl recoiled in fear and then bolted for the door. Throwing it shut behind her, she sprinted up the first set of steps and then collapsed against the second set. She punched the side of the wall in frustration and then wiped at her eyes. She had never meant to say anything to him like that – it had only been for her own curiosity's sake that she wanted to know. She had not actually meant to hurt him or invade his privacy, but it seemed now that she had managed to do both.

Letting out a shaky breath, the young witch crawled to the top of the steps and pulled herself into a seated position. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, trying to get control of her thoughts again. Even if she could go back and apologize again, he would not be in any mood to accept it. She had never seen him so angry – not even with Harry or Sirius.

"Hermione?"

She jumped at the sound of Remus's voice behind her. Standing up, she straightened the hem of her jumper and tried to keep her hands from shaking. In a moment of panic, she realized the Veritaserum was still affecting her, and she hurriedly tried throwing together her mental shields.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he stated calmly. "Are you alright?"

"N-Yes!" she spit out, louder than was necessary.

Remus's gaze was one of concern as he glanced at her face and then down the stairs. "Hermione, what exactly are you doing here?"

It took a great deal of concentration to keep the truth from slipping out of her mouth. "I…erm…I wanted to talk to Professor McGonagall, but she wasn't there. I sat down to wait."

Lupin followed her outstretched hand to the lion cub's portrait. He let out a deep breath and seemed to relax. "She's in Hogsmeade for a few more hours I'm afraid. She had to chaperone the outing so Professor Snape could oversee your detention."

"Oh," she muttered. "I didn't know Professor Snape was supposed to chaperone today."

"Well, he was," he rolled his eyes. "I have a strong suspicion that he only scheduled your detention for today so he didn't have to."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from saying anything out loud, but she had her own suspicion that he had begged off of his chaperoning duty so that she could keep her cover story. She had never considered that Snape would be in Hogsmeade, which would have left a gaping hole in her detention excuse.

The Defense instructor tilted his head. "Was there something in particular that you needed to talk about?"

She shook her head and crossed her arms against her abdomen. "No, I think I'd rather wait to talk to her."

He sighed softly and nodded. Glancing back towards the stairs that led to Snape's quarters, he placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to guide her away. "This probably isn't the best place for you to wait. If you would like, I can let her know that you need to talk to her."

"Erm, no. That's nice of you to offer, but I just want to go back to the Tower and forget about today. I'll find her on my own sometime," she covered quickly. "Thank you, though."

She turned to leave, but stopped when he called out to her again.

"Would you like me to walk you back to the common room?"

"No, I'm alright," she smiled, relieved to finally give an honest answer. She said good-bye to him and immediately set out down the hallway. When she was sure that he could no longer see her, she let out a large sigh and then broke into a run.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

By the time Monday morning had come to be, Severus was thoroughly disgusted with himself. He had known by the look on her face that she had not meant to say anything regarding Lily, but he had been so distracted by his anger that he was not thinking clearly. No one was supposed to know why he worked so hard to keep the boy safe. He had made Dumbledore promise never to tell, and no one had figured it out – until now. This tiny slip of a girl had spent little less than two months in close contact with him and already knew his greatest secret, when the rest of the Order had known him for fifteen years and were utterly clueless. Even Remus, who had been there to witness his friendship with Lily, had not managed to piece it all together.

It had taken a few minutes for his brain to overcome his rage, and when it had, he had immediately regretted his actions. He had sent her away in fear – and pain, likely – and had abandoned her to deal with the effects of the most powerful truth serum on her own.

He had moved to go after her, but had only managed to open his door before pausing. He had heard Lupin speaking to her, and had frozen with the fear of their discovery. He had listened closely to their conversation, and had nearly collapsed against the door in relief when she had somehow managed to find the strength to fight the serum.

He had wanted to find a time to apologize to the girl, but had been busy most of that evening with Lupin's dosing and sequestration. She had then skipped all of the meals on Sunday, which led him to believe that she was afraid of seeing him. As such, he was half expecting her to be absent from his class that morning.

When she had stepped through that doorway, though, he let his eyelids flutter shut in relief. He had opted to hand back their essays at the beginning of the lecture, solely for the purpose that Hermione would have time to notice the '_See me after class' _penned beneath her 'E'.

During lecture, he had noticed her uncertain glances in his direction, and he knew that he deserved every ounce of her reluctance. He had let his temper get the best of him at her expense for two days in a row, which would be more than enough to make anyone think twice before speaking to him.

And for the first time since Lily, he realized that he did care what she thought about him.

"You wanted to see me?" she asked, holding her essay out as the rest of the class slipped out into the corridor. She waited until the door closed behind the last student before speaking. "I_ really_ am sorry, Professor –"

Severus held up his hand and shook his head. "I'm the one who should apologize, Miss Granger. I should not have reacted in such a manner, no matter what was said. You were not in control of your words, and I should not have lost my temper."

"I understand why you did, sir."

He shook his head again. "That doesn't make it excusable – nor was my anger over Mr. McLaggen. It was my fault that you were not fully informed.

"As for your handling of Lupin," he added, "you did….you did well."

She glanced at him in slight surprise, but nodded. "Thank you. I didn't know you had heard that."

"I did. If you are willing," he continued, "we can meet again tonight."

"Yes," she answered.

"Alright," he replied. "I will leave the content to you. I can plan another defense session, or you can have another attempt at the Veritaserum. Obviously, you need quite a bit more practice with that."

Hermione smiled and ducked her head. "It would appear that way, yes. But I think that for tonight, I'd rather have you launch hexes at me."

Snape snorted as he looked at his desk. "That can be arranged. Good day, Miss Granger."

When she reached the door, she stopped and turned back to him. "I just want you to know, Professor, that I would never tell Harry anything."

The man raised his eyes to meet her serious gaze and slowly nodded.

"And if you do have any doubts," she shrugged, "you could just order me not to."

His face melted into a dark scowl and he dropped his gaze to the desk.

Hermione winced at her poor attempt at humor. "'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Granger."

"Yes?" she asked, bracing herself for a possible reprimanding.

"Get to class."

A small smirk appeared on her face. "Yes, sir."

She was halfway out the door when he called her back.

"Yes?" she repeated, leaning against the edge of the door.

"About Mr. Weasley," he began, an uncomfortable grimace on his face. "Perhaps he would be less likely to bother you if he had some sort of….distraction."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she considered the suggestion. "I'll keep that in mind, sir. Any advice on Cormac?"

"Push him in the lake if you have to."


	32. Summoned

**A/N: At long last! Finals are completed (straight A's!), I've started work, and I'm half unpacked in my new apartment. WooT. And to thank you for your patience, I've provided you with an action-filled chapter...and I mean action in every sense of the word!  
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**Holy Hannah! Look at all your reviews... Thanks Aubrey'Snape, Miakahitoshi, vampirela69, Startled Boris, Jinx 452, Lust for Life, ancim, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, DedicatedReader, ineverdothis, irockpaper, Phoenixica24, cinnamin, IHeartBranson, Wampus Dragon, Lucente, silverose29, anniekun93, Scipio'sgirl, earley1991, callalily32, clio, BlooDsucKkerR69, Mel, Stacy Vorosco, Petite Mule, Lyra Lupin, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, 2lazy2login, Lover of Fantasy, simplyy gabrielle, woodshark, KittyPimms, Odile1001, MyCatSammy, Angelwells, Eebaral. Knight, severus49, HPFanGirl01, hnwhitlock2000, MCannon5887, xSiriusxstalkerx, Inez Stringos, Jani, La muta larmo, Susan , melonka, Sev01, AllyZ, llorolalluvia, snapify52, Golfbabe87, Mills87, Tilly, Slinkiee, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, livebyinsanity, LittleSparrow, Loreena, StarsRFire, devoted82, Hazel08, lia, missdaine, and tennis14321432!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 32  
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As Friday morning arrived, Hermione was feeling better than she ever had in the past few months. Her two weekly sessions with Snape had been dedicated only to physical defense, with the last session focusing solely on defending against non-verbal attacks. He had promised that there would be no further Veritaserum lessons until she could honestly claim that she was ready for them. She had wondered a few times whether that was solely for her benefit, or if the hesitation to try again was a mutual feeling. After all, he had seemed a bit relieved that she had chosen a defense session instead of a second attempt at Veritaserum. Whatever the reasons behind his decision, though, she could now approach their future meetings with much less apprehension. Her mood had been given an extra boost when he informed her that she would be able to resume her apparition lessons the following Monday.

On a more personal facet, her anxiety level had taken another substantial drop upon sighting the splotch of pink on the bathroom tissue that morning. At the sight of the blood, it had felt as though a large weight had been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. Never before had she been so relieved to start her cycle, and she left the bathroom with a smile on her face.

And now, as she stood facing Neville in the middle of the Defense classroom, she was basking in the calmness that accompanied her newfound sense of confidence. She gave the boy a sympathetic smile as he once again failed in his attempts to non-verbally disarm her. Instead, his wand only produced a sad stream of red sparks from the tip.

"Your turn, I guess," he mumbled, staring at the floor.

Hermione sighed and nodded. She gracefully extended her wand arm and completed the necessary motions while mentally shouting the command. Half a second later, Neville's wand was securely within her grasp, and he was slumping his shoulders in defeat.

"Don't worry about it, Neville," she said, crossing the space to hand back his wand. "You'll get it eventually."

"Eventually," he repeated. He glanced over to where Harry and Ron were practicing. When the redhead managed to knock Harry's wand to the ground, he gave an excited shout, and Neville shook his head sadly.

"Oh, don't pay attention to everyone else," she chided, folding her arms. "You need to focus on yourself."

"What do you mean?" the tall boy asked, turning back to her.

The girl took in a deep breath and mentally replayed the lesson that Professor Snape had given her several nights before. "Performing non-verbal magic is more difficult because you need to have a higher awareness of your inner magic. It takes more effort than verbal magic because you have to find alternative way to focus the magic. You can't just say it in your head and expect it to work, because it won't. You have to visualize with it. You have to show yourself what you want to happen, and you have to believe that it will happen. You have to have confidence, Neville. If you don't believe it will happen, it won't.

"So, try it again, and this time you're going to picture the wand flying out of my hand and you're going to confidently scream _Expelliarmus_ in your head." She backed up several paces and then waved her hand. "Go on, now."

Neville let out a long sigh, but nodded his head and closed his eyes. A few seconds later, she saw him wave his wand and she felt a resultant tug at her own. As she glanced down at her hand, she watched her wand slowly slip from her grasp and clatter to the ground. When Neville opened up his eyes at the sound, she was beaming back at him.

"You dropped it on purpose," he said, his eyes wide with disbelief.

She shook her head forcefully. "No, I swear it. That was you."

"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath, gaping at his wand in astonishment.

Hermione smirked and picked up her wand from the floor. "Fancy another go?"

The boy nodded emphatically and raised his wand. After closing his eyes and swishing his wand, her wand flew out of her hand and clattered to the ground at his feet. Neville peeked down at it and then erupted into a toothy grin. "Can we do that again?"

She gave a small laugh and nodded her head. "You have to try it with your eyes open, though. You can't expect to close your eyes in a fight and live to tell about it."

"Okay," he agreed. He raised his wand and was about to try again, when she cried out.

"Neville, I need my wand back first!"

His face immediately became a shade of pink and he bent down to grab it. He grinned sheepishly as he handed it to her. "Sorry, Hermione. That probably would have hurt."

"A bit, yeah."

When he attempted the wordless disarming spell with his eyes open, the wand ripped out of her hand faster than before. As it flew through the air, he reached up and caught it.

"Bravo!" Lupin called out, causing the boy to blush again and Hermione to look up in surprise. The man stood from the desk he had been leaning against and clapped his hands. "It appears you all are starting to get the hang of this, and I think that that is an excellent way to end the week. Practice some over the weekend and be prepared to demonstrate your prowess on Tuesday."

Excited chatter broke out amongst the students as they returned their desks to their rightful places and began filing out of the classroom.

"Hermione."

The girl closed her eyes briefly as she zipped her bag shut. She let out a silent sigh and plastered a small smile on her face before turning to face the Defense instructor. "Yes, Professor?"

Remus smiled at her. "I just wanted to commend you on your handling of Neville. That was an exceptional method of teaching, and it certainly produced positive results. I must admit that I am a bit jealous of your approach to the topic. I doubt I could have taught him quite so well as you have. I would never have imagined anyone could pick it up as quickly as he just did."

Hermione bit down on her lip as she felt her cheeks flush. If only he knew that her little speech and suggestions were nearly verbatim to the ones Snape had given her – granted, her tone had been much more pleasant – and that she, as a result, had accomplished the task just as fast as Neville had. She doubted that Remus would have been so forthcoming with his praise if he knew the original source.

"I can tell you've been studying outside of class," he continued casually. "I am glad to see you back to your usual standards."

She held her breath, remembering that Snape had mentioned how the staff had been monitoring her academic performance. She winced internally at the image of her teachers crowded around a table, dissecting her life.

"I look forward to seeing your skills improve further this term," Lupin finished with a cheerful light in his eye.

The young witch forced a smile and nodded her head before turning away to catch up with Ron and Harry.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

"If you are uncomfortable with the task, we will delay the venture another week," Snape instructed as he held open a door for her and noticed the look of hesitation on her face. "We need not waste the time."

"No," she shook her head as she stepped past him. "Please, I want to try."

"You have to have confidence in your abilities, Miss Granger," he remarked with a pointed stare as they continued walking down the corridor.

"I know," she nodded. "It's just…I don't want…I mean…I won't splinch myself again, will I?"

The wizard let out a long breath. "If you lack the confidence, you very well may."

"Self-fulfilling prophecy, right," she sighed. "I remember."

Severus stopped in his tracks and glanced carefully at her. "Miss Granger, if you cannot do this –"

"I can," she interrupted, turning around. "I can do this. Please, let me try."

After closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, he nodded and strode past her. "Then you best control your anxiety."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Hermione muttered beneath her breath. She had been looking forward to this lesson all weekend, and it frustrated her to no end to feel a certain amount of dread creeping into her system as the reality of it approached. She could not help but remember the agony that accompanied her last attempt at apparating on her own. It was also odd to recollect just how much it had helped her manage the pain to bury her face against his shoulder. As abrasive as he had been, just his presence had been enough to help soothe her fears.

Glancing at the back of his dark robes, she frowned. _When exactly did that happen?_

Six weeks ago, she still jumped when he would unexpectedly appear near her. She would still awaken in a cold sweat in the middle of the night when dreams of the abandoned field would surface. And now – now she seemed in some strange way to depend on him. So much so that she had splinched herself over the fear of being separated from him.

How_ exactly did that happen_? She let out a deep breath and fiddled with the amethyst pendant as she considered the question. Even when he was shouting at her, she felt a certain amount of calm knowing he still had to protect her – even if only because his life depended on hers.

And now it seemed easier to put her trust in him with everything that had happened lately. He had attempted to comfort her after her emotional breakdown. He may not have realized it, but it had meant a great deal to her to have him seek her out for a quiet conversation when she had been worried he had only come after her in anger. He also seemed to have forgiven her for exposing his deepest secret, which was unbelievable on so many levels. Severus Snape was not a man who was easily associated with forgiveness. His interactions with Sirius and Remus had been evidence enough of that. But now that she knew the reason, she completely understood his dislike of Harry, and had vowed to herself never to mention his treatment of the boy. There was undoubtedly more to the story than she could ever figure out on her own, but she had a feeling that if she had been in his place, she would be just as bitter. Anyone would be.

It seemed barely a moment had passed when she felt the sudden tingling of the apparition wards.

"Are you quite finished with your brooding?" he asked with a sneer.

The girl cautiously looked up at him and then nodded. She inhaled deeply and stared at the floor. "Professor?"

"What?" he snapped.

She winced slightly and bit her lip as she gathered her courage. "Could we possibly do a few jumps together first?"

Snape's eyes washed over her in a scrutinizing gaze before he eventually nodded and held out his arm.

Hermione gave a small breath of relief and gladly slipped her arm around his.

When he released her three trips later, there was no doubt in her mind that she could do it on her own. When she realized he was staring at her with a raised brow, she attempted half a smile and shrugged her shoulders. "I think I can do it now."

Severus gave a dispassionate sigh and reached into his robes to extract the bottled Essence of Dittany.

The young witch narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I can do it. I _know_ I can. I won't need that."

He tilted his head in consideration and then sneered. "Prove it."

So she did – several times, in fact. When she popped back into the Forbidden Forest after her last successful apparition, she collapsed onto her bottom in near exhaustion and leaned back on her arms to stare at the starry sky. She took in a deep breath and then expelled it in a fit of giggles.

"Don't tell me you've splinched your brain on that run," the Slytherin Head scorned from his seat upon the old stump.

"No," she smiled, shaking her head. "I told you I could do it."

Snape rolled his eyes and folded his arms across his chest.

"You know," the girl remarked, resting her head on her shoulder, "non-verbal magic is rather a lot like apparition. If you can do one, you can do the other."

The wizard snorted. "Oh, you really _are_ the brightest witch of your age, aren't you?"

Hermione pinched her lips together and glared at him from her seat on the grass. "I was just making an observation, sir."

"You were just stating the obvious," he corrected. "Of course they're similar – apparition is a form of non-verbal magic. Do you ever speak an incantation to apparate? No."

"Fine, stating the obvious then," she sighed, pushing forward and sitting cross-legged. "It's all connected then – apparition, nonverbal magic, Occlumency."

The Potions Master gave a quick nod. "Mastery of one lends greater ease in accomplishing the others, generally speaking."

She scratched her head and chewed on her lip. "When you were first teaching me Occlumency, I didn't have my wand but I could still do it. Does that mean I could do other things without my wand?"

"With enough desperation," he remarked dryly. Upon seeing her frown, he dropped his shoulders and rested his hands on the sides of the stump. "Wandless magic is possible, yes. When you are distressed enough, your inner magic will respond, however, purposely performing wandless magic is exceedingly more difficult. It requires a great deal more focus than does nonverbal magic."

"Can you do it?" she asked in a curious tone.

"Perhaps."

The witch gave a small snort and stretched out her legs. "Did you teach yourself how to apparate?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

"You're the reason there aren't any apparition books in the library, aren't you?" she pushed.

The man exhaled loudly and stood to his full height. "I believe that concludes this evening's session."

Hermione sighed and pulled herself onto her feet. "You know that if you don't answer, I'm just going to assume it's a yes."

"Who be I to interfere with your remarkable talents of assumption," he stated blandly, extending his arm to her.

Her face twisted into a smirk, and with a loud snap, she disappeared into thin air. Severus glared at the empty space for a second before apparating himself back to the passageway. Upon arrival, he found the girl panting heavily as she leaned against the wall.

"Do I need to comment on the idiocy of over-exerting oneself?" he asked.

She shook her head and tried to laugh as she barely managed to say, "Worth it."

He raised his eyebrows in challenge and then stalked down the corridor. "Shall I assume your answer will remain the same after you've finished dragging yourself up all of those staircases?"

An unintelligible groan escaped her lips as she pushed away from the stone wall and followed humbly behind him.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Even though she had barely made it to her room before passing out that night – and had very nearly slept through Defense the next morning – she had not regretted pushing herself to the brink of exhaustion. Though Snape had fixed her with a smug stare every time she had yawned during his afternoon class, he had not called her out on it, or criticized her decision during any further sessions. In fact, over the next week and a half, he had seemed to treat her training with even greater seriousness.

"I wanted you to shield against it, not dive out of the way!" he shouted as she physically ducked his stinging hex.

Hermione winced as her bare knee hit the floor of the empty classroom. She was highly regretting not changing out of her skirt into a more sensible pair of jeans before meeting for their defense session. Sweat was beginning to drip down her forehead, and she took in a labored breath. "What's the difference? Either way, I avoid it!"

The man narrowed his eyes and launched a second stinging hex her way.

"Ouch!" she cried out as it found its mark.

"The difference," he emphasized, leaning forward, "is that when you throw yourself to the ground to avoid a curse, you greatly minimize your chances of escaping the second attempt! Shielding it gives you the advantage of being able to respond repeatedly."

She rubbed her hip as she struggled to pull herself off of the floor. "Fine. I'll try it again."

"I think not." He conjured up an armchair and then gestured to it. "Sit."

The girl glared as she dropped into the chair. "I believe I told you this before, sir – I'm not a dog!"

"My apologies," he smirked. "I must have been distracted by the panting."

_Arse._ She let out an angry gasp and crossed her arms tight against her chest. The look of contempt on her face softened, however, when he handed her a glass of water. It was not until after she had drained it completely that she realized just how thirsty she was.

"Thank you," she whispered as he magically refilled her glass. He grunted in response, and she settled back in the chair to enjoy the cool water at a much slower pace. When she finished a few minutes later, she handed the empty glass back to him and stood from the chair. "Had enough of a rest yet?"

Snape rolled his eyes and sent another stinging hex in her direction.

"Protego!" she shouted, successfully blocking the spell.

"Silently," he hissed.

Hermione sighed and readied herself for his next attack. When it came, she managed to wordlessly cast a shielding charm to stop the hex. She was about to smirk in response when his face contorted in pain and he grabbed his left forearm. Her first thought was that the stinging hex had rebounded and hit him, but when he sucked in a breath and let an emotionless mask overtake his features, she realized it was something else entirely.

"Prof –"

"You must return to your dormitory, Miss Granger," he instructed as he summoned his travelling cloak and quickly made his way towards the door to the hallway. When his hand touched the door handle, he suddenly jerked it back as another burning sensation erupted across his arm. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. The Dark Lord only summoned once – if he ever had to call a second time, the pain was crippling enough to bring a man to his knees. But this was different.

_Almost as if it were a signal_. Severus closed his eyes briefly before spinning back towards the girl.

The color drained from her face as she met his gaze. She shook her head and whispered, "No."

"It is time," he responded solemnly.

"No!" she shouted, grabbing hold of the chair. "No, no, no!"

He held out his hand. "We cannot keep him waiting, Miss Granger."

Panic swelled in her gut as she took tentative steps towards him. When she was within reach, he grabbed hold of her wrist and pulled her through the doorway. He silently cast a Disillusionment charm over her head and then continued pulling her through the corridors as they headed to the front entrance.

"Why aren't we taking the passageway?" she whispered oddly as he tugged her along.

"The Dark Lord believes the only apparition point is beyond the gates," he hissed back. "If someone were to be watching, it would not do us well to apparate from anywhere else."

"Oh," she whimpered as Snape threw open the castle doors, and the two of them quickly descended the steps into the chilly night. As the gravel crunched beneath their feet, she could not keep the sense of dread from rising within her. They were going to face Voldemort. She was going to face Voldemort. Alone. Snape could not help her now – he had to play the loyal Death Eater, and she had to protect his cover. She had to protect him.

"Oh God," she cried, stopping in her tracks and causing him to pull up short. "I can't do this. I can't face him. I can't do this!"

Severus sighed and cancelled the Disillusionment and replaced it with a Notice-Me-Not charm in case anyone happened to be watching from the castle. Quickly turning towards the quivering girl, he grabbed hold of her arms and shook her slightly. "Granger, listen –"

"I can't do it!"

"Listen to me, damn it!" he shouted in her face. When her eyes snapped up to him in surprise, he calmed his voice and stared openly into her eyes. "You have to do this. You _will_ do this. There is no other option. Whatever will happen will happen."

When she nodded slowly in response, he released his grasp on her right arm and again began dragging her towards the gates. "I must warn you, Miss Granger, that the Dark Lord will not be gentle in his pursuits. He will likely use both pain and fear to weaken your defenses. Do not allow yourself to be distracted – you must not lose focus."

She swallowed heavily as they neared the gates.

"I apologize now for anything I may do or say while in the Dark Lord's presence."

Hermione let out a shaky breath and tried to dispel her nausea. "Yeah, well I apologize now if I get you killed."

Snape said nothing in return as he yanked open the iron gates wide enough for the pair of them to slip through. As soon as he passed across the wards, he pulled her tight against his chest, and rolled up his sleeve to expose the Dark Mark. He pressed the tip of his wand to it and almost immediately felt the tug of apparition.

As their destination appeared before them, he grimaced internally upon noticing that the Dark Lord had chosen the same field for their meeting as he had for the binding ceremony. He knew Hermione recognized it too, for she had become rigid the moment she sprawled out of his grasp. Thankfully, though, there were no other Death Eaters present at their master's side.

"Severus!" Voldemort called out with a grin as the other wizard bowed in respect. "You do not disappoint me, my friend. How quickly you have brought me your prize! I take it you did not encounter resistance in this venture."

The Potions Master shook his head and then frowned as he noted the girl was frozen in fear as the dark wizard slithered towards them. He knew he needed to devise a way to get her to focus without attracting suspicion.

"Kneel before the Dark Lord," he spat bitterly, delivering a swift kick to the back of her knee.

Hermione cried out in surprise as she fell onto her hands and knees. A sharp pain flared in the palm of her hand as a stray rock spliced it open.

"Tut, tut, Severus. You should be more gentle with your toys." There was a gleam in Voldemort's red eyes as he turned his attention to the girl before him. "Rise, my child."

She swallowed back a generous amount of fear and was about to follow his command, when a familiar voice slid across her conscience.

**'Don't.'**

The young witch flicked her eyes quickly to Snape and then back to Voldemort.

**'It is a test, Granger.'**

She could see that the Dark Lord was still staring at her in anticipation, which meant that he could not have heard Snape speaking to her. She closed her eyes, grateful for the small comfort that it provided her, and then took two heaving breaths.

"I c-can't, sir," she muttered, risking another flicker of her eyes towards the evil wizard. "I was t-told to kneel."

A sickening grin fluttered across Voldemort's face as he reached out to stroke her cheek. It took all of her focus not to flinch at the feel of his frigid fingers upon her flesh.

"Such obedience already. Severus has broken you well, I see," he cooed down to her as he tilted her chin upwards. "Pain is an excellent teacher, is it not?"

"Indeed it is, my Lord," Snape answered, forcing a smirk onto his face and crossing his arms behind his back.

"Tell me – has she served your needs well?" the dark wizard asked, tightening his grip on her chin until she squeaked in discomfort.

The man raised his eyebrows. "She has been…satisfactory, my Lord."

"Such high praise from your dear Potions Master," Voldemort chuckled, wrenching her chin to the side and trailing a cold fingertip across her throat. "You must be delighted."

Hermione whimpered slightly, and her heart was pounding in her ears so loud she was sure they all could hear it. She let out a quick breath of relief when the hand disappeared from her throat and he tossed her chin away from him. A second later, however, one of his hands snaked its way behind her head and tightly grabbed a clump of her hair. Tears came to her eyes when he forcefully yanked her head back until she had no choice but to look at his horrible face.

"Praise like that," he hissed, "deserves examining."

Without further warning, his eyes tore into her mind with such force that her mouth opened in a silent scream. She tried to pull away from the pain, only to have her knees buckle beneath her. As she dropped a few inches towards the ground, his grip on her hair remained steady, and it felt as though her hair would be ripped out by the roots. Wincing, she tried to regain her balance to take off some of the pressure.

Voldemort cared little over her discomfort and continued to tear through her mind with wild abandon. The pressure was so intense, she felt as though her head would explode at any second. Tears trickled down her cheeks in response to the splitting headache he was giving her, and she could feel throbbing pain beginning to erupt across her spine.

There was absolutely no way her mental shields would hold him back. While Snape had confidently stridden through her memories, the Dark Lord was like a troll busting through the walls of her mind. It was sheer agony under his gaze, and fear pressed deep into her abdomen. They were done for. He was going to see something, and she and Snape were both going to die.

**'Focus, Granger!'**

Hermione gasped at the interruption, but Voldemort seemed not to notice. She took several deep breaths and then turned her attention to her task, shutting out all of the pain.

Severus dared not blink as he silently monitored the Dark Lord's intrusion of her mind. He willed her defenses to remain strong as she held still in a precarious position. As had occurred with Dumbledore, he could see everything that was pulled forth from her memories.

Voldemort latched onto one memory after another, subjecting them once again to the binding ceremony, and each of the following re-committals. He even laughed audibly as he viewed her first Potions class, when Snape had forced her to answer and had then taken away points. When he slithered through the memory of the horrible day in Potions, his focus immediately shifted away from her interactions with Snape and turned instead towards Harry.

He ripped through their conversations about homework and Quidditch. The images of Hermione sabotaging his potion, and his subsequent punishment in front of the class had elicited another bout of sinister chuckling. When he arrived at the memory of her asking after Harry, when Ron had claimed he was with Dumbledore, his pillaging came to a standstill.

"_What_ were they doing?" Voldemort hissed suspiciously, abruptly withdrawing from her mind.

"I d-don't…I don't know!" she cried, attempting to shake her head.

His red eyes flared and he furiously threw her to the ground. He paced for a few seconds before spinning towards Snape. "Has the old fool mentioned meeting with the boy?"

"No, my Lord," Severus answered, forcing himself not to look upon the girl. "He had confided in me his concerns of your connection with boy. He does not trust him with anything privileged."

The Dark Lord let out an angered puff of air through his slit nostrils. "Then why is he meeting with him now?"

"I know not, my Lord," Snape responded carefully. He knew enough from experience not to look away when admitting ignorance. "If it would please you, I will –"

"No!" He spat. "There is no reason he would want you to know. Asking questions will only lead him to suspect you, but the girl…"

He paused a few seconds to stalk back over to her, pulling her up by her hair again. "You! You will find out."

Hermione cried at the renewed pain in her tender scalp, but nodded pathetically at his demand.

Voldemort angrily tossed her to the ground again, and spun away from her. "Nagini!"

Severus glanced out of the corner of his eye at the sound of the large snake slithering through the tall grass. He stiffened almost imperceptibly as the reptile passed by the hem of his robes.

"Watch the girl," the evil wizard instructed before walking towards his trusted spy.

The snake obediently moved towards the witch who had pulled herself onto her knees. Whimpers escaped her as the oversized reptile wound itself about her thighs. Eyes wide with fear, Hermione swallowed a heavy gulp as she stared at Nagini's forked tongue flicking about her.

"Does the old man suspect anything?" Voldemort asked, pulling Snape's attention away from the serpent.

Severus shook his head. "As far as he is concerned, the girl believes herself indebted to me for saving her parents in the nick of time."

"And the Order?"

"Wallowing in his word as though Merlin himself had delivered it."

The Dark Lord chuckled at the look of disgust displayed upon his face. "Severus, your intelligence and wit never disappoint."

The Potions Master dipped his head in gratitude before glancing back towards Hermione.

"Something troubling you?"

Snape shook his head again. "Just checking that your pet has not decided she needs a late night snack."

"Rest assured, your prize is still safe," Voldemort laughed. "Nagini does not eat unless I tell her to. Does the girl believe the same far-fetched story as Dumbledore?"

"No," he answered. "She has been informed of her parents' unfortunate demise."

Voldemort grinned and made his way back to the girl. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the snake from her guard duty and then grabbed Hermione by the chin, pulling her to her feet.

"Since you were gracious enough to share your memories with me," he stated softly, "I feel it only fair that I share one with you."

A feeling of dread washed over her as he pushed into her mind once again.

_Suddenly, she found herself, wand drawn, pushing open the garden door of her home. The kitchen lights were on, though the room was empty. Silently, she slipped into the house, letting the back door remain open. She was nearly to the sitting room door when Crookshanks suddenly darted beneath her feet, yowling at the top of his lungs as he fled into the garden. _

_"Hermione?" her mother shouted from beyond the sitting room door. "Is that you? We've been so worried! We were out looking for you. Where have you been?"_

_As the voice moved closer to the door, Hermione hung back and tightened her grip on her wand. The door swung open, revealing her mother who suddenly glanced at her in fear. _

_"W-who are you?" the woman asked fearfully, eyeing the open garden door and then backing away towards the sitting room. "Get out of my house!"_

_"Crucio!" Hermione shouted bitterly. Her mother fell to the floor screaming and writhing in pain._

_"Jean! What's wrong?" her father's fearful shout came from the floor above them. A second later, she heard the pounding of his feet on the stairs. When he appeared in the kitchen, he cried out in anguish at his wife convulsing on the floor. He turned to charge the intruder, but soon found himself screaming in agony as he dropped on top of his wife. _

"NOOOO!" Hermione shouted, slamming her eyes shut and tearing away from the memory.

"Foolish girl!" Voldemort hissed. He tightened his grip on her face and forced the images back into her head.

_It was sometime later, for the lights in the house had all been extinguished. Hermione strode purposefully down the staircase and made her way back into the kitchen. Her parents were still lying on the floor, holding on to each other and whispering quiet 'I love you's._

_"How touching," she spat, raising her wand again. "Avada Kedavra!"_

_Green flashes and a strange rushing sound filled the small kitchen as the life vanished first from her father's eyes, and then her mother's. _

_Hermione quickly stole from the house, turning back when she had reached the back gate._

_"Incendio!" she murmured and watched as her childhood home erupted into flames._

Hermione felt numb as Voldemort finally released her from the painful memory. She dropped onto her knees, staring blankly at the yellowed grass rustling in the frosty wind. She was unaware of anything until Snape slipped his arm beneath her shoulders and hauled her to her feet.

"Granger," he whispered. "We need to leave now."

Glancing around the field, she realized that they were alone. "He's gone?"

"For several minutes now, yes," he responded. "I am going to apparate us back to the front gates."

She nodded slowly and closed her eyes as he wrapped his arm about her waist. Her stomach jumped into her throat and then plummeted sharply. Immediately the taste of bile filled her mouth, and her supper quickly made its way back into the world.

Severus continued to hold on to her waist while she was doubled over, and made sure she could not fall into her own mess. He waited for a few minutes after she had finished retching before suggesting that they continue on across the grounds. When he noticed that she was shivering beside him, he realized for the first time that she had only been dressed in her school uniform. Cursing, he removed his cloak and draped it across her shoulders before casting the Disillusionment charm on her again.

The pair walked in absolute silence to the entrance of the castle. Neither of them raised objections when Snape opted to make his way to his private quarters, and Hermione trailed passively behind him. When he had secured the door behind him, he cancelled her concealing spell and gestured towards the couch. As she took a seat, Severus ran his hand across his face trying to decide whether he should leave now to debrief Dumbledore.

The sight of blood on his floor pulled his thoughts away from the Headmaster. He narrowed his eyes, noticing several small drops of crimson trailing from his door. He snapped his gaze towards the girl on his sofa and quickly moved towards her. He pulled his cloak away from her body and winced as he saw the blood dripping down the fingers of her left hand.

"Miss Granger, you're bleeding."

She glanced up at him as though unable to comprehend the statement, and then looked down at the hand in her lap. "Oh."

Snape sighed and sat next to her, grasping her hand and turning it so that the palm faced upwards. A jagged cut sliced across the center of it. He placed his wand near the wound and began the song-like incantation of the _Vulnera Sanentur_ spell. When nothing happened, he frowned and glanced up to see her staring at him with wide eyes.

"Is _it_ burning?"

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. Her bottom lip quivered slightly. "It started hurting when he was in my head."

_Just bloody perfect_, he thought with a sigh.

"Are we going to…" her whisper trailed off.

Severus pulled on her hand. "Let's deal with the gaping wound first, shall we?"

He briefly considered using dittany, but opted against it when he noticed the dirt in the wound. It would not do any good to let flesh regrow only to have it get infected. Since magic was not going to be an option until after they renewed their bond, he was going to have to rely upon more Muggle methods.

"Come on," he whispered, pulling her to her feet and guiding her towards the door next to the bookshelves. He pushed it open to reveal his bedroom, and then turned her towards the attached bathroom.

After sitting her down on the closed lid of the commode, he pulled out a small box from the cabinet beneath the sink. He turned on the faucet and reached for her hand. Cautiously, he rinsed away the dirt and extra blood from her hand, and then grabbed a pair of tweezers to remove a small pebble that had worked its way into her flesh.

Hermione sucked in a pained breath and rested her forehead on the side of his hip while he worked. When he was satisfied that the wound was clear of debris, he withdrew a small bottle of alcohol from the first aid box and poured some of its contents over the area. Eventually, he applied a salve before covering it in gauze and wrapping a cloth bandage around her hand. When he had finished, he cleared everything away and pulled her up from the toilet.

The girl stared at the neatly wrapped bandage as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Snape watched with a concerned gaze as she hesitantly made her way towards his bed and sat down on the edge. She ran her uninjured hand across the smooth surface of the dark green comforter and then let out a deep sigh. He scratched the back of his head and started towards the door that led to his office.

"I'll go get the potion, then."

"No!" she said quickly, glancing at him. When he stopped to look at her, she dropped her eyes to the floor. "Could we not use it?"

He sighed, but nodded. "We'll still need the contraceptive, however."

Hermione let out a long breath as the door shut behind him. Kicking off her shoes, she slid back into the middle of the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. She chewed on her lip for a few seconds, debating whether it was wise to not use the anesthetic potion, but she quickly decided that she did not care how bad it hurt. Anything was better than the numbness she was feeling at the moment.

When he reappeared, she accepted the proffered flask and quickly downed the contents. She set the empty vial on the bedside table and settled back against the pillows while he removed his frock coat and boots. She turned her head to face the wall when she felt him sit on the edge of the bed.

Severus ran a hand through his hair as Minerva's advice echoed through his conscience. It had been hard enough for him to stand there and watch Hermione be tortured under Voldemort's stare – he could only imagine how traumatized she must feel. If it were up to him, he would rather Crucio himself than take advantage of her vulnerable state, but as it was, he had no choice in the matter. Glancing back at her, it did not take a genius to recognize that she was still in shock, and he understood exactly why she had refused the other potion. She needed to feel something, but he was going to be damned if he let it be pain.

Sighing, he laid down beside the girl. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and gingerly trailed his fingers along the side of her face. When she glanced back at him in surprise, he touched her other cheek.

"I am so sorry for everything," he whispered hesitantly. "This is more than anyone should have to bear."

She blinked back a few tears and then moved to turn away.

"Hermione, please look at me."

When she did, he let out an uncomfortable breath. "I am…I am proud of you."

Her eyes widened and her lips parted in shock. "W-what?"

Snape gave a slightly amused sigh and touched his lips to her forehead. "You stood before the Dark Lord, and yet we are both still very much alive. Our secrets are still safe. You did well, Hermione."

The witch's eyes fluttered shut as his words rustled against her ear. She felt the tension in her body begin to melt away as he began placing light kisses on her eyelids, her cheeks, and the bridge of her nose. When he placed one on the tip of her nose, she opened her eyes and timidly caught his lips with her own. She could feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards before he kissed her in return, and she shivered against him as his hand slid down the length of her body.

Instinctively she pressed against him, and he pulled one of her legs across his thigh. She pulled away from the liplock when he began playing with the hem of her skirt.

"I'm sorry," he whispered quickly at her startled look.

Hermione shook her head and blew out a breath as a pleasant heat spread through her body. "I've just never felt this before."

Severus smirked and placed a kiss at the base of her throat. He slipped one arm around her waist and moved his hand from her thigh to cup her breast through her blouse. A throaty moan escaped from her, and she arched her body against him. He sucked in a breath as she inadvertently rubbed against his erection. Leaning over her upper body, he rested his forehead against hers.

"Are you ready?" he whispered, noticing the glazed look in her eyes. When she nodded her head against him, he turned their bodies so that she was lying on her back and he was positioned above her. Gently, he reached beneath her skirt and slipped her knickers down her long legs. He tossed the underwear to the side and then pushed up from her long enough to unfasten his trousers and slide them, along with his boxers, down from his hips. When he had positioned himself at her opening, he quickly re-sought her lips before pushing into her.

Hermione gasped and suddenly grabbed hold of his shirt.

"Does it hurt?" he asked in a strained voice.

It took her several seconds to comprehend that he had asked her a question, and even then she failed to find her voice. Instead, she shook her head and tightened her grip on his shirt.

Taking that as a good sign, the wizard continued moving inside of her. He kept a gentle rhythm, not wanting to run the risk of hurting her. He nearly lost control when she buried her face against his neck and moaned into his clavicle, but had managed to recover his mental faculties before he pressed her too hard.

He could feel her tension building with each thrust until finally all of her muscles clamped down around him and she arched her back in climax. He pushed into her relaxed body a few more times until he reached his own release. Afterwards, he withdrew his flaccid member from her and rolled off of her.

Hermione swallowed in astonishment as she stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. Breathing heavily, she turned onto her side and watched nervously as he tucked in his shirt and re-buckled his belt.

"Please don't leave," she whispered, pulling into a seated position.

"You need to sleep," he responded as he reached for his frock coat.

She wrapped her arms around herself and took in a panicked breath as she remembered her encounter with Voldemort. "I don't think I'll ever sleep again."

Snape rubbed his forehead and then pulled open the drawer of his bedside table. He extracted a vial of Dreamless Sleep and handed it to her.

The girl took the flask from him and glanced at it hesitantly. "I don't want to be alone. Please promise you won't leave."

He let out a deep breath, but nodded and sat back on the bed. He waited quietly while she took the potion and then laid her head against the pillow. Her eyelids eventually drooped closed, and Severus moved some of the curls away from her face. When she did not react to his touch, he stood and pulled the comforter and sheets out from beneath her. After he covered her up, he turned to leave the room so he could meet with Dumbledore.

Upon reaching the bedroom door, however, he glanced back at her sleeping form and sighed. He watched her chest rise and fall for a few minutes before deciding that the Headmaster could wait until the morning. Muttering under his breath, he crossed to the other side of the bed and laid down with his back to the girl.

Wrapping his arms around his waist and staring at the wall, he prepared himself for another sleepless night.


	33. Healing Efforts

**A/N: I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter so much! This one's not as exciting, but I hope you like it anyway. I stayed up way later than I should have to try to get this finished before the weekend. For the Americans reading, have a good Memorial Day weekend! For everyone else, have a great weekend anyway!  
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**Thank you hnwhitlock2000, earley1991, ancim, Widad, Scipio'sgirl, anniekun93, jforston, woodshark, ineverdothis, callalily32, Lucente, Eebaral Knight, severus49, xSiriusxstalkerx, simplyy gabrielle, BlooDsucKkerR69, MCannon5887, bushyhairedamericannerd, llorolalluvia, sharNZ, LittleSparrow, mairamout, Golfbabe87, Startled Boris, MissLizet, InezSophia, sirli, Small Owl, Angelwells, Stacy Vorosco, missdaine, Aubrey'Snape, Seph7, Tilly, DedicatedReader, cinnamin, Lust for Life, lia, NewtypeJuliet, Lover of Fantasy, Petite Mule, Team Mordsith 3, IHeartBranson, Sev01, ButterflyGirl89, clio, Lil Tine, sweet-tang-honney, melonka, ambercrombie541, tennis14321432, Odile1001, alicehsbb, vampirela69, Phoenixica24, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, staypee, Mel, KittyPimms, duffie83, StarsRFire, Hazel08, Lyra Lupin, AllyZ, ptite mac, A Casual Observer, and amonymous!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 33  
><strong>

Severus sighed the next morning as he fastened his teaching robes over the clothes in which he had slept. As he had so glumly predicted, there had been no sleep for him. Whenever he had closed his eyes, he would see Hermione on her knees before the Dark Lord, shivering with fear and grimacing in pain. And whenever he would leave them open, he was faced with the truth that he had just had sex with a student, who was still lying beside him. It did not really matter that she had been bound to him against his will, or that he was only doing it to keep her alive. It did not really matter that she had withstood torture from the Dark Lord himself and kept him safe, or that she was in obvious need of comfort. Hermione Granger was still his student, and in his mind, it was still horribly wrong.

He had entered into the act knowing that it had to be done, and knowing that she needed a distraction from the chaos raging inside of her head. He had been more open and gentle with her than he had ever been with anyone, and it was almost surprising how much it had excited him to have her respond to his touches and to know that he had been the first to give her that. After they had finished, however, it only took one glance at her uniform for his mind to be cruel enough to supply him with a stream of images from her time in his classroom. Guilt and disgust had begun working their way in as soon as he connected the eleven-year-old frizzball with the figure lying in his bed, and he had wanted nothing more to escape the room so he could hate himself without an audience.

But when she had begged him not to leave, he knew deep down that he could not. She had needed someone, and as unfortunate as it was for her, he was the only one available. So he had momentarily put aside his self-hatred and his duty to the Headmaster, and he had stayed. He had lasted nearly an hour staring at the wall, before turning over onto his other side and spending the rest of the night watching her sleep. As he silently regarded her and replayed the events of the past two and a half months in his head, he knew that despite her age and her relative inexperience with the magical world that she had to be the strongest woman he had ever met.

Severus cast one last glance at the girl sleeping soundly in his bed and gave a pointed look to the ginger cat curled up beside her before he quietly shut the bedroom door behind him. The Dreamless Sleep potion would likely not wear off for several hours yet, so he could wait until his lunch hour to check on her again. If anything worrisome were to happen before then, however, he had instructed the meddling feline to immediately seek him out.

_And now I'm giving orders to a cat._ He could just picture the canary-eating grin on Minerva's face as he quickly descended the staircase to his office and ignored the rumble in his stomach. Breakfast was going to have to wait until after he finished readying his classroom for the first NEWT practice exam he had scheduled for the seventh years that morning.

After a night spent listening to the soft sounds of someone else sleeping without getting any rest himself, he was more than ready to fail half of the class. He was especially looking forward to failing the fool McLaggen. He had never cared for the boy before that year, but after that tosspot's interactions with Miss Granger, he now held a special spot of contempt for him.

The door slammed shut behind him and almost immediately vanished into the stone wall. Snape stopped at his desk long enough to grab his assignment ledger and then stalked out into the hallway. He had nearly reached the Potions classroom when an angry shout caused him to stop in his tracks.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

Snape spun around to see Potter advancing upon him. The boy's face was flushed with anger, and his hair was sticking out in all directions. He was still dressed in his pajamas, and sweat was dripping down his forehead.

"Potter!" he spat, narrowing his eyes.

"You know where she is!" Harry charged, withdrawing his wand. "Tell me!"

"Foolish little brat!" Severus growled dangerously, wordlessly disarming the boy and grabbing him by his shirt. He dragged him the short distance to the classroom and then tossed him inside. After he locked and silenced the room, he turned back to see The-Boy-Who-Lived picking himself up from the floor. "Are you deranged, Potter, or just completely incompetent? Shouting in the corridor for all of Slytherin House to hear?"

"Give me back my wand," the boy hissed.

The Potions Master's nostrils flared and he threw the slender length of holly towards the front of the classroom, where it bounced off of a bench and rolled away. "You have three seconds to explain yourself before I have you expelled for attacking a teacher!"

"I didn't…" Harry let his protest die away and desperately rubbed at his scar. "_Tell_ me you know where Hermione is!"

Snape's eyes widened as his anger half-deflated into fear as he watched the boy push on his forehead and he dropped his voice to a concerned whisper. "What did you see?"

"Last night after Quidditch practice, when I was falling asleep, my scar started to itch again, and I saw…I saw…" He paused and ran his hand through his hair. "I saw Hermione. She was afraid, kneeling on the ground, and it was like I was slithering towards her – I think I was the snake again. The one that attacked Mr. Weasley. She was whimpering when I touched her. She looked so scared.

"I thought that it was another trap – like with Sirius – but when Ginny came down this morning and said that Hermione never came back from the library last night..." He shook his head angrily. "I went to Professor Dumbledore, but he just told me not to worry – that all is well. All is NOT bloody well! Where is she?"

Severus let out a deep breath, his anger towards Potter all but forgotten. Obviously, the Dark Lord had not meant for the boy to see anything. It would have defeated the whole purpose of using Hermione as a spy. He felt a rising amount of frustration with the Headmaster for not doing more to calm the boy's temper. Albus knew exactly what had happened the night before, since he had flooed into Snape's chambers just after dawn for his report.

The boy was never supposed to know anything about Hermione's involvement – both the Headmaster and the Dark Lord were in agreement in that regard. It seemed, however, that the Dark Lord had let his excitement slip through the connection with Potter and had nearly given away his hand. However, if that were to become known, the evil wizard was never going to take responsibility for the blunder. Likely he would permanently silence the Order spy just for suggesting it.

Snape knew that he had to do something before Potter flew off the handle and jeopardized everything. Again.

"Miss Granger is…resting," he finally answered, deciding to skirt the truth.

Harry's eyes snapped to his. "It was _really_ happening, then? It wasn't a trick? Voldemort had her?"

Snape glared at him for using the Dark Lord's name, but nodded slowly.

"Where is she?" he muttered, after all of the color had drained from his face. "Is she…is she alright?"

The man closed his eyes and dipped his head. "She is somewhere safe, and is recovering."

"Can I see her?" Potter asked, stepping forward. "I need to make sure she's alright."

"What part of 'she is resting' don't you understand?" The Slytherin Head glared. "If she wants to speak with you, she will seek you out. Otherwise, you will wait until the Hallows Eve Feast, is that clear?"

Harry blew out a bitter breath, but nodded.

"You will tell no one of this," he added.

"But –"

"Did you not just hear me, boy?" Severus snarled. "You will tell no one, and if I have even the slightest inkling that you will be incapable of this, I will not hesitate to Obliviate you!"

The younger wizard's face wrinkled in anger and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Does Professor Dumbledore know?"

"Of course he bloody knows!" Snape spat. "If you're accusing me of something, Potter, I would highly suggest you rethink it!"

The boy immediately shook his head. "I'm not! It's just…why wouldn't he tell me?"

"Far be it from me to make assumptions about the Headmaster's motivations," the Potions Master drawled, "though perhaps he has come to the realization that the world does not, in fact, revolve around the magnanimous Harry Potter."

The remark earned him a glare, and he could see Harry's hands ball into tight fists.

"Fetch your wand and get out."

"No! Not until you tell me why," Potter demanded.

"Why?" Severus repeated with a raised eyebrow.

"_Why_ Voldemort took Hermione!" he shouted. "_Why_ you let him!"

The Slytherin's eyes flared dangerously as he forcefully backed Harry into a table. "_Let him_? Is _that_ what you think? That_ I_ have a choice in what the Dark Lord does? Perhaps it's your father's thick skull that prevents you from comprehending the simplest of details, but I…do…not…_let_…the Dark Lord do anything!"

The boy shirked away from his snarling face and held up his hands defensively.

"As for why – perhaps you could apply that pathetic excuse for a brain of yours and figure it out!" He stalked over to where the holly wand had fallen, snatched it up from the floor, and then tossed it at Harry.

Harry managed to catch it after some juggling. "Professor –"

"Out!" Snape pointed angrily towards the door. The sound of the latch clicking open filled the room, and eventually the boy stumbled towards the door. When he had left, Severus let out an angry growl and kicked the nearest stool. As it clattered noisily to the stone floor, he held his head in his hands and sighed.

He knew that Potter would not let it go that easily, but he had a notion that the boy would at least keep it to himself for the time being. Dumbledore had all but given him a pat on the head, while Severus had told him at least enough information to confirm his suspicions. It was not a great leap to figure out to whose judgment the boy would temporarily defer.

And that would give him just enough time to stitch together a plausible cover.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

It was just after noon when Hermione's eyes fluttered open. She blinked in confusion at the color of the pillowcase on which she had just been drooling. Glancing down at the edge of the comforter she had been snuggling against, she realized quickly that it was not the maroon one covering her bed.

_Red is for Gryffindor, and green is for_… Hermione immediately scrambled into a seated position, clutching the covers tight against her chest. At the sound of a mewing protest, she was shocked to see Crookshanks staring at her in reproach.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she asked, anxiously glancing around at the room. Realization suddenly dawned on her as images of the night before surfaced in her mind. Heat flared in her cheeks at the thought of sleeping in Snape's bed, and she checked once again to see that he was actually gone. She smiled oddly at the memory of what he had done to her body, and blew out a nervous breath remembering that she had kissed him.

_I kissed Professor Snape. Merlin, I had sex with him. And then I asked him to stay with me. Oh my God_. Hermione fell back against the mattress and curled up around one of the pillows. Confusion and shame were now twisting through the threads of pleasure onto which she had been holding. As she remembered the desperation with which she had begged not to be left alone, her eyelids slammed shut, and embarrassed tears threatened to leak from beneath them. There was no doubt in her mind now that he knew exactly how weak she was. She could not even handle sleeping on her own in the middle of a castle where she was perfectly safe. He had to think her absolutely pathetic.

_"I am…I am proud of you."_

Hermione's eyes flashed open as she remembered the rumble of his voice against her skin. Professor Snape had told her that he was proud of her. There was no way he would ever say that – to anyone, let alone an insufferable know-it-all. She had to have been dreaming.

_"You did well."_

A small smile graced her lips as she wiped away the beginnings of her tears. _Well, at least it had been a nice dream for once._

Sniffling loudly, she pulled herself back up and noticed the parchment lying on the table beside the bed. She seized it immediately and glanced down at the spiky handwriting.

**_Miss Granger,_**

**_You have been excused from your classes for the day and are to make use of my quarters as you require.  
>If you find that you are in need of anything, Dobby will be groveling at your disposal.<em>**

**_Professor S. Snape_**

The girl groaned quietly, realizing that she had not even thought about having to attend classes. She let out a deep breath, wondering what horrible disease she was supposed to be suffering from this time, and how long it would take Remus to stop looking at her as though she were made of glass.

She did not think much more on that topic, though, for her bladder suddenly reminded her of the need to use the loo. Tossing back the covers, she slid out of the bed and blushed like mad when she spotted her knickers on the floor. Snatching them up, she quickly ran into his bathroom and slammed the door shut.

After she quickly did her business and washed her hands, she sat back down on the toilet lid and stared at the bandage on her left hand. She remembered appearing in the darkened field and all but stumbling out of Snape's grasp. Her first thought had been that he had not done anything to steady her as he had during their lessons, but she had known that he could not do so in front of the Death Eaters. As soon as she had recognized the location as being the same place she had first been brought before Voldemort, however, she had become frozen with fear and everything after that seemed to be a blur. She vaguely remembered falling to the ground at some point, but did not remember cutting her hand. Not until Snape had pointed it out in his quarters did she even realize that she was bleeding.

_Why can't I remember what happened?_ Expelling a deep breath, she moved to run her uninjured hand through her hair. She winced at the tenderness of her scalp and closed her eyes as the memory of being yanked to her feet flashed through her mind. Her hand brushed against her jaw, causing her another jolt of soreness. With a gasp, she leapt up from the commode and glanced at herself in the mirror. Her eyes widened at the sight of the purple bruises on her chin. Hesitantly, she touched a finger to one and sucked in a painful breath.

And then she remembered everything – Voldemort grabbing hold of her, trailing his finger down her throat, ripping her head back, tearing through her mind. She saw him throw her to the ground and pull her up again to hiss orders in her face. Hermione gripped the edges of the sink cabinet with white knuckles as she remembered the horrible snake moving towards her. She could practically feel the cool smoothness of its scales as it constricted around her thighs and she could hear the soft swishing sound of its forked tongue as it tasted the air for her fear.

She had been so relieved when Voldemort had ordered the vile thing away, but what had happened next had been ten times worse. She squeezed her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to block out the images, but it was to no avail. Her parents were there writhing on the floor of her mind, and their screams were echoing through her conscience. Suddenly, they were dead, and the house they all had loved so much was burning to the ground around them.

Hermione could not breathe. Gasping for air, she stumbled away from the sink and threw open the door. The walls seemed to be closing in on her, and she had to get away. Blind to everything but her internal torture, she pulled open the bedroom door and made her way through the sitting room. She slipped through the portrait door and quickly ascended the staircase.

As soon as she was in the corridor, she took off into a sprint. She needed air. She could not stay inside. She needed out.

Hermione ran through the hidden archway and the twisting corridors beyond it, down the several flights of stairs, and flew down the dark tunnel beneath the Black Lake. She kept running until she felt the tingle of the wards and then disappeared with barely a sound.

Her stomach slammed to a stop and the garden she had played in as a child appeared before her eyes. Beyond it, however, where the house was meant to be, there was a large pile of charred beams and walls collapsing in upon the cracking foundation. Orange fencing had been temporarily erected about the property to keep any curious children from poking through the ruins.

"No, no, NO!" she shook her head, as the wind whipped her hair about. She tried to erase the sight before her, closing her eyes and opening them. Again, she was met with the image of blackened wood and orange plastic against the greying sky. Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she fell to her knees in despair.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Severus had just pulled his classroom door shut behind him when a streak of orange ran past his feet. His eyes widened as he checked the hallway for any other occupants, and then he glared at the cat.

"I thought I told you to stay there."

The half-kneazle yowled in response and took off down the hallway towards his office.

Panic suddenly clenched in his gut and he was moving on his feet before even going through the steps to un-silence the mental connection with the girl. As soon as he saw her intended destination, he bypassed his office altogether and rushed on towards the staircase. He could make it to the front gates faster from here than he could the secret passageway.

Though silently cursing the entire way, he was extremely grateful that it was the lunch hour. Nearly everyone was congregated in the Great Hall, leaving the corridors empty of any witnesses. He all but flew down the gravel path until he reached the iron gates that creaked open at his approach. Hardly a second passed between the moment he passed through the wards and when he disapparated.

With a pop, he appeared in the back of the Granger property. Immediately he spotted the girl lying crumpled and crying on the browning grass. He took two steps before sweeping down to grab her around the waist.

"Not here," he muttered gruffly into her ear as he pulled her against his chest and apparated them both back to the dark tunnel.

The rushing of the wind instantly died away, and the only sounds now were those of the girl's anguished weeping.

Snape sighed, leaning against the wall and then sliding down to the floor. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with one hand while continuing to hold her with the other arm. He attempted to slip his arm from her waist, but stopped when she turned into him and clutched at his robes.

Unsure of what to do, he rested his hand on her side and leaned his head back against the stone. As he began slowly rubbing his thumb across her hipbone, he was relieved to hear her sobs eventually hiccup into a soft sniffling. Letting out a deep breath, he slipped out his wand and silently cast a tempus charm.

There were only fifteen minutes before he was expected to be in class again. The more enthusiastic students were likely to be arriving in the matter of a few minutes.

"Dobby!" he hissed.

The wide-eyed house-elf appeared with a loud pop, causing Hermione to cling tighter to the man's robes.

"Dobby is here to serve Master Snape, sir!"

"Yes, I see that," he growled from the floor. "I want you to go to the deputy headmistress and tell her to cancel my afternoon classes. Do it now."

The elf disappeared mid-bow with another loud snap.

Severus grimaced at the echoing of it and exhaled audibly. He frowned as he glanced down at the girl in his lap. His legs were beginning to lose feeling as he sat upon the hard floor. Reaching a decision, he slid his other arm beneath her knees and carefully picked himself up from the floor. Silently, he carried her through the narrow passageway and up the stairs until finally they reached the main part of the castle.

He cautiously picked his way down the staircase to his chambers, and then set her gingerly on his sofa. As he stepped back, she immediately curled into a ball and covered the top of her head with her hands. Snape scowled at the sight of the purple bruises on her chin and summoned a jar of salve to him.

"Granger, I need you to sit up," he stated forcefully as he pulled his armchair close. When she begrudgingly followed his instruction, he sat down and unscrewed the lid. Taking a generous scoop of the thick, yellow paste, he methodically began covering the discolored skin.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and pulled back at the sudden coolness of the salve.

"If you would sit still," he chided with a raised eyebrow. "The salve will help. The bruises should fade within the hour."

She nodded briefly and sucked back her remaining tears.

When he was satisfied that all of the marks were covered with the yellow paste, he sat back and placed the jar on the end table.

"Erm, Professor," she whispered. "It's bleeding again."

Snape glanced at her face in surprise and then down at her hand where crimson was beginning to seep through the bandage. Cursing, he began unwrapping the rough material and removed the now-worthless bundle of gauze.

"Likely it split open when you apparated," he said calmly as he wiped away some of the excess blood. In a moment of déjà vu, he placed the tip of his wand near the injury and recited the _Vulnera Sanentur _incantation. This time, however, they both breathed a small sigh of relief as her skin slowly began stitching itself back together. When it had finished, he cast a _Tergeo_ charm to clear away the remaining blood.

"Any further gaping wounds requiring my attention?"

Hermione shook her head as she flexed the muscles in her hand. "My head, though, feels like it's been run over by a trolley."

Severus snorted with an understanding nod. He knew exactly what it felt like to have the Dark Lord rip through his mentalscape. Wordlessly, he summoned a flask of headache-relief potion and handed it to her. "This will take some of the edge off, but the pain will gradually diminish with time."

The girl blew out a shuddering breath but accepted the vial. She took the potion and stared at the floor for several minutes. When another batch of tears began to form in her eyes, she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

"It's gone," she sniffled, laying back against the sofa. "My home is gone."

Snape winced painfully and turned his head to face the wall. "Miss Granger, you cannot go there again. I do not know if it is being watched still. In the Muggle world, you are now considered dead. It would not do to be spotted."

Her eyes widened exponentially as her gaze sought his form. "What?"

"The Muggle authorities have reported that your remains were found along with your parents," he responded. "The Headmaster felt it would be easier that way. No questions as to why you were not present for their funeral. Minister Scrimgeour and Kingsley Shacklebolt agreed."

"Oh," she whispered, twisting her hands. Her face then wrinkled as she tried not to cry again.

Severus sighed mournfully and stood from his chair. He had done enough crying as a child and when Lily had died that he did not wish to sit through anyone else's suffering. The front of his robes was already drenched with her salty tears. He was hungry and tired, and he really did not think he could handle much more before his patience snapped. He took a long look at her, with the dirt and blood stains on her wrinkled blouse and skirt, and then pushed through to the bedroom.

Hermione raised her head at the sound of water running and stood from the couch. Tilting her head, she somberly followed the noise and stepped into the bedroom. Her eyes narrowed as she found Snape perched on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water as it poured out of the faucet. He then stretched his arm to open the under-sink cabinet and extracted a jar of small blue crystals. She watched as he meticulously sprinkled them into the water as though the tub were a large cauldron.

As her hand touched the bathroom door, it gave a small creak, and the man looked up in surprise. At her questioning gaze, he cleared his throat and rose to his feet. "It will help with your headache."

She glanced at the fizzing water and stepped further into the room.

Severus quickly switched off the water, and then straightened with a semi-uncomfortable look on his face. "I will have the elves fetch you some clean clothes. I shall remain in the sitting room, but I request that this door be left open… lest you are tempted to do anything foolish."

The girl swallowed nervously, but nodded as she folded her arms against her chest.

He fixed her with a pointed look before turning his gaze to the cat which had leapt onto the edge of the tub. Without a further word, he slipped past Hermione and disappeared from sight.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

When the floo flared green, Severus looked up from his book to see Minerva step through with a metal-covered tray.

"Do you think me incapable of feeding myself?" he quipped, closing his book and setting it aside.

The witch snorted and set the tray down upon a small table in the corner of the room. "Well, _have_ you? You and Miss Granger have missed all three meals today, and none of the elves claimed to have brought you anything."

He let out a guilty breath and stared bitterly at the fireplace.

"I was afraid of that," she frowned, clasping her hands in front of her. "And where is she?"

Snape gestured towards the bedroom and rubbed his eyes. "Resting. She's been lying down since getting out from the tub."

"While you sit out here and skulk," she murmured as she walked towards the open door. There was a brief pause before McGonagall reappeared in the sitting room with a devilish smirk on her face.

"What?" he snapped.

"Why, Severus – there appears to be a rather large and fluffy cat curled up on your pillow."

The man rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "I thought you were fetching Miss Granger."

Minerva smiled and shook her head. "She's asleep. I didn't want to disturb her just yet."

"Hardly surprising," he said blandly. "It was exhausting just _watching_ her leak water everywhere."

The deputy headmistress frowned, grabbing the book he had set down and swatting him on the side of the head with it.

"Woman!" he shouted, raising a hand to his head.

"Keep your voice down, you idiot," she hissed as she tossed the book back onto the table. "And for heaven's sake, eat something. You're always in an exceptionally bad mood when your blood sugar is low."

"Oh, how observant you must be," he snarled. "Perhaps next time, you can be the one to answer the Dark Lord's call for information."

"Severus," she warned. "I don't want that girl waking up and having to deal with your foul temper, do you hear me?"

The wizard gave an angry huff of air, but stalked over to where the food had been set. She sat down on the sofa and waited until he had returned to his seat with a plate before speaking again.

"How _is_ Hermione holding up?"

Snape contemplated the question while he chewed and then shrugged. "She is doing better than I would have assumed. She is managing the pain better than I did after the first time my Occlumency shields were tested by the Dark Lord, though the emotional toll is understandably greater in this instance."

McGonagall nodded, watching him take several more bites of his sandwich. "How did she do?"

"We're both still alive, aren't we?" he glared. "Albus hasn't had to plan any emergency meetings either."

"You can say she did well, Severus," she replied with a small grin. "It won't kill you."

"That remains to be seen," he muttered, bitterly snapping off another bite.

When his dark look did not clear within several minutes, the witch narrowed her eyes. "What is it?"

A pained expression crossed his face as he dropped the plate of food onto the end table. "Potter knows."

"He knows what?"

Both professors turned in their seats to see Hermione standing in the doorway to the bedroom, lines of sleep still evident on her face.

"Miss Granger –"

"_What_ does Harry know?" she screeched. "Tell me what he knows!"

"Hermione, dear, come here," Minerva instructed gently, gesturing to the spot beside her. The girl did as was told, but kept her eyes trained on Snape, waiting for an answer.

Severus took a deep breath before meeting her interrogating gaze. "His scar burned last night. He saw from Nagini's vantage."

"The snake?" Hermione paled and wrapped her arms around herself. "Is that _all _he saw? Please tell me he didn't see anything else!"

"He did not claim to have seen anything else, no."

She let out a shaky sigh and pulled her feet onto sofa. "He wasn't supposed to know. You said that he couldn't know!"

"I did not consider that the Dark Lord would accidently give him a private viewing!" Severus shouted back. Upon receiving a glare from Minerva, he dropped his voice and his gaze. "But the fact is he did, and Potter will undoubtedly come to you for the answers that he did not receive from me."

"You said I couldn't tell him," she said quietly. "I don't _want_ to tell him. I don't want him to know about… this!"

McGonagall squeezed her shoulder as the man leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees.

"Obviously, we cannot tell him the truth," he stated, "but you must tell him _something_, or he will never let it rest until it ends up getting the both of us killed."

"Does Professor Dumbledore know?"

Snape angrily cast his look into the fire. "Of course he knows."

He paused before continuing. "We spoke about it at some length after Potter accosted me in the hallway, and I'm afraid we'll have to call on your many talents as an actress."

She let out a deep breath and allowed herself to lean against Minerva's shoulder. "You mean you want me to lie."

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to gather her courage as she watched the sky darken over the lake. The feast would be starting soon, and she would have to leave the safety of Snape's quarters. She supposed it was odd that he had let her spend two nights and the better part of two days in his personal space – in his bed, even – but she rather wished that she could stay longer. Resting her head against the cool glass of the window, she pondered the strangeness of the fact that she would rather spend another night in Professor Snape's bedroom – while he slept on the couch again, of course – than speak with one of her best friends.

When she heard the clock chime six o'clock, she took in another large breath and backed away from the window. Before she lost her nerve, she quickly strode through his quarters, up the stairs, and into the quiet corridor. As she made her way towards the Great Hall, the noise level began to increase as students were arriving for the much-anticipated Halloween Feast. She, however, was hoping she would run into Harry before having to actually enter the hall, for she was neither hungry nor willing to deal with loud noises. Though it was getting better, her head still felt like someone was continuously poking it with a stick.

"Hermione!"

She winced at the shout and spun to face her friend. "Hi, Harry."

Grabbing hold of her hand, Harry pulled her into an empty classroom. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she sighed before holding up a hand and casting a _Muffliato_ as Snape had shown her earlier that day. "We can talk now."

The boy glanced about in surprise at the quiet buzzing sound that surrounded them, but then turned to look at her with concern and guilt written upon his features. "Hermione, I am so sorry! I thought it was a trap, like Sirius, but when you weren't there – I should have helped you!"

"No!" she shook her head. "Harry! You can't do that! You can't just go rushing off to save people! You have to stay safe."

"But he was torturing you!" he shouted desperately.

"That was the point, Harry," she stated in a small voice.

"What do you mean?"

"He was using me to get at you!"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "So I would come after you, you mean?"

"YES!" She threw her hands up in the air and took two steps away from him.

He remained quiet for a few moments as he processed the information. "Snape told me not to tell anyone about what I saw."

"_Professor_ Snape," she corrected.

"If it was just a ploy to get at me, why am I not supposed to tell anyone?"

Hermione sighed, folding her arms against her chest. "Because when he didn't sense you trying to find me, he thought it had failed. Professor Snape managed to convince You-Know-Who that you've been working on Occlumency and are likely shielding your connection… that you didn't see it."

"And he just let you go?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. "Voldemort doesn't just let people go, Hermione."

_No, he certainly doesn't._ She closed her eyes and looked away from him, ashamed of all of the lies she was spewing. "He wasn't going to, Harry. He was going to kill me, but Professor Snape stepped in and argued that it would be best to not anger Dumbledore as it would bring added suspicion onto himself. Professor Snape said he would Obliviate me instead."

"But he didn't –"

"No, he didn't Obliviate me, because he felt that I needed to know," she responded carefully. "But if you tell anyone, and You-Know-Who finds out about it, Professor Snape and I are both dead, because he'll know that the Professor lied to him."

Harry blew out a deep breath and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "But its Snape, Hermione – I still don't know if I trust him. With Sirius –"

"Stop it!" She shouted as tears welled up in her eyes. "I don't care what you think, Harry, because you're wrong! Professor Snape saved my life! And he didn't let Sirius die! Just how the hell do you think the Order found us? Did you think it was just coincidence that they showed up when they did?"

His face was red, but he seemed to consider the statement. He breathed heavily for several minutes before turning back to her. "How did Voldemort kidnap you?"

Hermione shrugged sadly and shook her head. "I don't know. I was outside, and then it's like everything went black, and when I woke up I was in that field staring at him!"

"Are you sure it wasn't Snape who –"

"NO!" She wiped away the tears that were falling and shook her finger dangerously. "Professor Snape didn't kidnap me, Harry! He didn't get there until later, and you have _no_ idea what he had to do to bring me back alive, so don't you dare suggest it! Don't you dare!"

"Okay, okay," he stated, stepping back from her. "If it wasn't him, then who?"

"I don't know!" she hissed. "I didn't see who it was!"

Harry tugged at his hair. "Was it Malfoy?"

"Harry, I said 'I don't know!'" she reiterated. "Just leave it be! I'm alive, you're alive – just let it be!"

He sighed and then moved towards her, placing a hand on her arm. "Hermione, I won't tell anyone. I swear."

"Not even Ron, Harry!" she qualified. "No one can know!"

"Okay, not even Ron." The boy gave her half a smile and pulled her into a hug. "I love you, Hermione. I would never try to hurt you. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

Hermione hugged him back and laid her head on his shoulder. "Please, Harry. It isn't your fault. Please don't blame yourself."

Harry embraced her tighter and they held onto each other for several more minutes. Eventually, she pulled away and wiped her eyes.

"You should go, Harry," she whispered. "Enjoy the feast while there's still food."

"You mean before Ron eats it all," he smiled.

She laughed and nodded.

"You're not coming to the feast?" he asked.

"No," she sighed. "I'm not hungry, and my head still hurts. I think I just want to go to bed."

"Okay." He squeezed her arm. "You're okay besides the headache? I checked the Hospital Wing for you yesterday, but Madam Pomfrey said you weren't there."

"I'm okay," she grinned. "And no – I was not in the Hospital Wing. You'd never believe it, Harry."

"Never believe what?" he asked with the raise of an eyebrow.

Hermione giggled slightly as she straightened her shirt. "_I_ had a sleepover with Professor McGonagall."

"You're joking!" Harry laughed. "That's brilliant."

"Yes, but you still can't tell Ron," she covered. "At least not until You-Know-Who is rotting in the grave."

The boy grinned. "It'll be the first thing to leave my lips when Voldemort's gone."

She smacked his arm playfully and rolled her eyes as she made her way to the door.

After a few seconds, the boy sobered his expression. "Do you want me to walk you back up to the tower?"

"I'll be alright on my own," she said, cancelling the muffling spell before she pulled open the door.

Harry watched her leave and waited until she had disappeared up the staircase before he walked the short distance to the Great Hall. As he made his way towards Ron and Neville, he could not help but think about what had happened to Hermione. She seemed alright considering, but it bothered him that he could not do anything to help her. He was not going to tell anyone about it – he had made a promise to her, and he was going to keep it. He had risked her life enough as it was.

As he sat down, he glanced across the room and narrowed his eyes as he spotted the Slytherin table. He bristled, noticing the smirk Draco Malfoy was sending his way.

**X x x x x x x x X x x x x x x x X**

Hermione frowned as she listened to the sounds of her roommates sleeping. She had laid in bed since leaving Harry downstairs several hours before, but had not managed to close her eyes for any extended period of time. Snape had given her another vial of Dreamless Sleep, but she did not want to take it because she was beginning to hate the mental fog it gave her in the morning. Besides, she had managed to fall asleep without it the night before.

She had fallen asleep rather easily, actually, in Snape's quarters – even without the potion. She had felt safe there, which made it easier to close her eyes.

As a thought began forming in her mind, she let out a deep breath and swung her feet to the floor. She slipped on a pair of flats and then tiptoed her way to the door. When neither Ginny nor Mathina reacted to the sound of the door being pulled open, Hermione sneaked into the staircase and descended into the common room. With a relieved breath, she noted the room was empty.

Quickly, she stole through the room and slipped through the portrait hole. She silently crept through the dark castle, ducking into an alcove at the sound of a cat mewing. When her familiar appeared in her line of sight, she let out a deep sigh.

"Crooks, you scared me! I thought you were Mrs. Norris."

The ginger-furred feline flicked his tail, watching as she slid out of the alcove into the hallway.

"Well, come on then," she whispered, gesturing down the hallway.

Several minutes later, Hermione found herself clutching onto her cat and staring at the painting of the Black Lake. Suddenly, she was beginning to regret her decision. There was no way that she could get in without his permission, and he was likely to be upset that she had even dared. Glancing back up the staircase, she doubted she would get back to the tower without being caught. It was lucky enough that she had made it all the way down here without being seen.

Deciding it was at least worth a try, she raised a tentative hand and touched the gilded frame as she had seen Snape do. When nothing happened, she cursed beneath her breath and turned back towards the stairs. She spun around when Crookshanks jumped from her arms and gave a loud yowl.

"Quiet Crooks," she hissed. "We'll get caught if –"

Hermione paused in the chastisement of her cat when she noticed the painting was elongating into a door. It swung open, and she stared wide-eyed at the darkened room beyond. The door quietly clicked shut after she entered, bathing the room in nearly complete darkness. The only light was the small sliver of moonlight spilling in from the bedroom. Cautiously, she stepped through the sitting room, half expecting Snape to appear from the dark to yell at her. She breathed easier upon pushing open the bedroom door and spotting his sleeping form.

Not wishing to disturb him, she tiptoed back into the sitting room and picked her way over to the sofa. With a soft sigh, she settled comfortably on the couch. When Crookshanks hopped up beside her, she lost herself in the sound of his purrs and closed her eyes to welcome sleep.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks to severus49 for the putting the book-smacking idea in my head. _


	34. Delving Beneath the Surface

**A/N: Took a while, so I made it extra long and opted not to end on a cliff-hanger. You're welcome.  
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**Loved all of the reviews from Miss Lizet, hnwhitlock2000, ancim, Phoenixica24, Slinkiee, ButterflyGirl89, cutemara, AllyZ, clio, La muta larmo, InezSophia, xSiriusxstalkerx, ptite mac, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Mel, Petite Mule, The Tea Of Love, Lacey-Mae Emelia, ineverdothis, woodshark, simplyy gabrielle, Lost-puppyEYES, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, Gamesgirl45, bownbey, BlooDsucKkerR69, Zoldronica, jforston, Sev01, captain kinna, mewmewlightning, DedicatedReader, StarsRFire, alicehsbb, Golfbabe87, angel27eyes, Eebaral Knight, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, llorolalluvia, HPFanGirl01, early1991, ambercrombie541, livebyinsanity, Angelwells, mairamout, Startled Boris, melonka, tennis14321432, evanessascence, Seph7, Lonely Road, parallelheart2014, vampirela69, Spottie782, Pastelmints, Lover of Fantasy, callalily32, Oedipial, IHeartBranson, Tilly, silverose29, cinnamin, severus49, Annie27766, Stacy Vorosco, and randc9394.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 34  
><strong>

The sky was still dark when Severus awakened with a groan. He vaguely remembered returning to his rooms after the Halloween feast, kicking off his shoes, and collapsing onto his bed. Undoubtedly, he had passed out from sheer exhaustion after having not slept more than a couple of hours over the past few days. He let out a lazy sigh realizing that he had completely slept through his scheduled rounds for the night. Hopefully, no children were bleeding to death in the corridor, for he was still much too tired to even think about putting his boots back on, let alone walking the entirety of his route.

He was in the midst of drifting back to sleep when a soft moan caused his eyelids to snap back open. Someone was in his quarters. Jumping to his feet, he wielded his wand and carefully crept towards the door to his lounge. He held his breath listening for any further signs of occupancy, only to be greeted by the gentle sounds of breathing. Narrowing his eyes, he spotted what looked like a shoe on the armrest of the couch.

"Lumos," he whispered, stepping close enough to the sofa to peer over the top of it. There were curls everywhere, and one pale arm casually hung over the edge of the cushion with fingertips barely touching the area rug on the floor. Green-ish yellow eyes lazily blinked at him as the ginger cat raised its head from its position atop the girl's backside.

Snape's mouth opened in disbelief at the sight of Hermione Granger lying face down and sound asleep on his couch. She certainly had not been there when he had returned from the Great Hall, and he certainly had not allowed her in. He had half a mind to rudely wake her up and give her a thorough dressing down before sending her back to her own room. The rest of him, however, was too exhausted to fully care at the moment.

Slamming his mouth shut, he put out the light and trudged back into his bedroom. _The little chit broke into my quarters! To sleep, apparently!_

"No better than that blasted cat," he grumbled, pulling back the covers of his bed. "Nuisances."

He had set one knee onto his mattress before he glanced towards the door, wondering if she were cold. _She was curled up rather – What the bloody fuck do I give if she's cold? She's the one who broke in, damn it! She can deal with a slight chill. She's lucky I don't give her detention for a month!_

But with a sigh, Severus found himself pulling out the bottom drawer of his dresser and reaching for the god-awful scarlet and gold tartan blanket that Minerva had so gleefully bestowed upon him two Christmases past. Electing to blame the decision entirely on his fatigued state, he slinked back out into the sitting room.

"Bloody nuisances the both of you," he sputtered to the feline before tossing the blanket over top of them. He then spun on his heel and sought the comfort of his own bed.

When he awoke again, it was to see the first rays of sunlight streaming in from the window and to hear the distinct sound of purring beside his ear. Narrowing his eyes, he spitefully threw the covers behind him and on top of the rumpled cat before he stalked into the bathroom to complete his morning routine.

After he had finished, Snape gave a deep sigh and strode out into the lounge. Pausing behind the sofa, he glanced at the clock on the mantle and then back at the girl who was peacefully wrapped up in the blanket. He began impatiently drumming his fingers on the back of the couch as he once again looked at the time. A few moments of indecision passed before he folded his arms against his chest and faced the girl.

"Granger!" he barked loudly.

Hermione jostled awake, clutching at the blanket as she glanced up at him in fearful surprise.

"Pray tell, girl, what would possess you to break into my personal quarters?" he asked, coldly raising an eyebrow. "I do not recall extending you an invitation."

"I'm sorry, sir," she sighed, sitting up and glancing down at the tartan blanket in confusion. "I just wanted to sleep."

"Have you not been provided a bed in Gryffindor Tower? If you have suddenly found it missing, I will consult your Head of House immediately."

The young witch yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I couldn't sleep there. I thought it would be easier here."

His brow raised in surprise. "And if you had been caught sneaking down here?"

"Well," she shrugged, "I suppose I would have said that I couldn't sleep, and that I was taking a walk to tire myself out."

"With your cat?"

She blew out a breath and crossed her arms. "I didn't plan on bringing him, for your information. He found me on the way down."

"Explain to me how the two of you managed to break through my wards."

Hermione frowned and shook her head. "I didn't do anything to your wards. I just touched the painting, and then a minute later it opened."

"You expect me to believe that the castle just let you in?" His expression visibly darkened with disbelief.

"I don't _expect_ you to believe anything, Professor," she muttered, pushing up from the couch. "But that is exactly what happened. The same thing happened with Professor McGonagall's quarters after… after the… the Welcoming Feast."

Severus swallowed nervously, understanding precisely to what she was referring. He instantly averted his gaze to the empty fireplace. Several seconds passed in tense silence before he made note of the time. "I suggest you return to your dormitory, Miss Granger. It is still early enough that your peers will still be asleep and likely have not yet noticed your absence."

She nodded in response and turned towards the door.

"This cannot happen again," he said in a warning tone. "There is too great a risk of you being seen."

The girl let out a sigh and nodded again. "I understand, sir. It was stupid of me to do."

With that, she pulled open the door and slipped out into the quiet staircase. As the door clicked shut behind her, Snape stared at the space for a long moment before sighing.

"And take your hideous cat with you, for Merlin's sake!"

** X**

While the rest of the weekend passed relatively peacefully for Hermione, it had left Harry with plenty of time to stew. He had no proof that Draco Malfoy was responsible for what had happened to his best friend, or even – for that matter – if the slimy blonde had finally become a Death-Eater. He was relatively certain of both, nonetheless.

And so he had spent as much time as possible watching the other boy. During mealtimes, he had kept an eye on the Slytherin table, wondering if the animated stories the blonde told his laughing cohorts were about Hermione. At night, he curled up on his bed, staring at the Marauders' Map for hours, monitoring Malfoy's movements. Hardly a word of Monday's lessons entered into his comprehension, for he spent a majority of the time surreptitiously glaring at the blonde.

It was during Tuesday afternoon's Potions session that Hermione caught him.

"Knock it off, Harry," she muttered quietly after kicking his foot.

He let out a sigh and shook his head as he turned back to his potion. "Sorry. I just can't help but feel he has something to do with it."

_Or not_. She sighed heatedly and tossed in her chopped shrivel figs with more force than was necessary. "Let it go."

"I've tried, Hermione," he responded. "But I just can't. He hurt you."

"No, he didn't," she hissed. "Draco didn't do anything to me."

"That you know of," came his reply.

She had just opened her mouth to protest, when she was interrupted.

"Miss Granger, Mister Potter – I do not recall instructing you to speak to one another," Snape chided loudly as he walked past their table. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry glared at the back of the professor's robes. When he caught sight of Draco's smirk, his face darkened further.

Hermione only rolled her eyes at her partner and was more than content to spend the rest of the class in silence. When Snape called for everyone to apply their stasis charms and return their unused materials to the storeroom, she eagerly jumped off of her stool and gathered an entire armful of ingredients.

Harry grabbed the one jar she had missed and followed her towards the front of the room. He scowled when a familiar head of white blonde hair cut in front of him.

"Move it, Granger," the boy snarled, shoving her aside. "Learn your place."

Horrified silence fell upon the room as the half dozen jars in the girls' hands fell from her grasp and shattered against the stone floor.

"Granger!" Snape shouted, angrily staring at the ingredients now gone to waste. "You will remain after class to clean your mess… without magic!"

"It wasn't her fau –"

"Shut up, Harry," she spat quietly, punching him in the arm. She ignored the laugh Malfoy gave as he kicked at the pile and made his exit. When everyone, including Harry had left the room, she sighed and crouched over the mess. She was careful to avoid cutting herself on the glass as she first began collecting the dried shrivelfigs.

She looked up in surprise when the Potions Master knelt beside her with a battered dust pan and brush. When he began sweeping it all into the pan, she narrowed her eyes in concern. "Can't you save any of it?"

Severus gave a disappointed sigh and shook his head. "They've all been contaminated with each other. The results could be disastrous if used in brewing."

"Oh," she whispered sadly. "I'm really sorry, sir."

He grunted as he took the shrivel figs from her hands and tossed everything in the trash bin. As he stalked about the front of the room, his eyes scanning furiously for any missed pieces of glass, he waved her away.

"Why don't you just use magic?" she asked instead of leaving.

Snape looked up and gave her a pointed stare. "Do you consider it wise, Miss Granger, to use magic when it involves shards of glass flying through the air?"

Hermione bit her lip and shook her head in embarrassment. He grunted again in response and resumed his perusal of the floor.

"Sorry again," she stated as she stepped out of the classroom and into the hallway. She thought it curious that Harry was not waiting for her like usual, but as she made her way up to ground floor, she realized why. Through one of the windows, she could see the dark-haired boy advancing upon the group of Slytherins playing around near the lake… with Ron in tow.

"Damn it!" she hissed, breaking into a run as she exited the castle. "Harry, stop!"

"Oh, look!" Draco sneered, smacking Crabbe in the stomach and pointing. "Potty's come to play!"

"Weasel, too," Goyle added with a look of disgust.

"Harry!" Hermione cried as she continued running.

"Here comes the mudblood," Crabbe snickered.

At this, both Harry and Ron pulled out their wands.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" the redhead shouted.

"You would know about filth, wouldn't you, Weasley?" Draco laughed, pushing from between the two bulky Slytherins. "Growing up in it and all. Now you wanna lie with it, eh?"

Hermione heard little else besides her own panicking as the first hex left the tip of Ron's wand. Draco easily side-stepped away from it and started laughing, but she could tell Harry was seconds away from launching his own curse.

"No! Harry, don't!" she shouted, grabbing hold of her two friends. "Stop it! Just let it go!"

They both pulled away from her and stepped closer to the three giggling boys. Hermione groaned and ran in front of them again.

"Knock it off!" she yelled, pushing Harry's chest to prevent him from firing a hex towards Draco.

"Hermione, move," Ron instructed, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from Harry.

"No!" she shouted, slapping his hand away and trying to grab his wand. "Stop it!"

Malfoy yawned dramatically as he batted away the spell that Harry had shot at him. He gestured at his two henchman and raised his eyebrows. "Care to do anything about this?"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Locomotor mortis!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Hermione did not realize that any of the three spells had been cast in her direction until she found herself flying through the air. She gave a panicked cry as she saw the dark blue water beneath her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she crashed through the surface of the frigid water.

As the dark water surrounded her, she fought desperately to return to the surface. Her legs refused to move due to the locomotor curse, and her arms were quickly freezing up. She had no idea if she even still had possession of her wand, but her muscles were cramping too much to check the pocket of her robes. It was unlikely anyway, after being hit by two disarming spells.

As her lungs began screaming for oxygen, she did the only thing she could think of.

** X**

Severus had just returned to his quarters with the intent of showering before supper when the silver otter flashed across his conscience. His brow raised in concern, realizing she had been standing in front of him not fifteen minutes before and had been perfectly fine.

**_'Professor… can't breathe… help! … lake…'_**

His eyes snapped immediately to the window. Anger rose in his stomach as he noticed five familiar students standing near the edge of the lake – two of them were rushing towards the water. Scowling, he threw open the window and leaped out of it. When his feet touched ground, he sprinted to the water's edge and tossed his teaching robes aside. He could still hear her desperate cries in his head as she fought against the dark water.

"Move!" he shouted, pushing Weasley from the dock. When he reached the end of the wooden structure, he gracefully dove into the water. Ignoring the biting chill of the water, he pushed deeper into the lake until he caught sight of her. His gut clenched fearfully when he noticed she was not fighting any longer and he could not hear her in his head. Grabbing hold of her, he closed his eyes and launched them both to the surface.

Gasping for air, he swam towards shore and then pulled her onto the sand. Without acknowledging any of the shouting going on around him, he moved the sopping mess of hair from her face and used magic to clear her airway. He held his breath until she began coughing up water.

When her eyes flashed open she grabbed onto his wet shirt and whispered, "P-prof-fessor…L-leg lock-cker…"

Snape glared at the boys standing around before muttering the counter-curse. With her legs finally able to move, Hermione curled up into a ball, seeking warmth.

Severus summoned his robes and wrapped them around her, wordlessly casting a warming charm as he stood.

"Accio wands," he snapped, reaching up one hand to snag the six wands that flew through the air. He picked up the girl and scowled darkly at the rest. "You will _all_ be in my office by the time I return from the Hospital Wing. Anyone who is incapable of this will be immediately expelled! Is that understood?"

He did not wait to see their nods before he turned and stalked back to the castle. Hermione was still shivering against him by the time he had reached the infirmary. He quickly deposited the girl onto the nearest bed before shouting for Madame Pomfrey, and storming from the room.

He pounded down the staircase, ready to tear into anyone who even dared to look at him. When he had descended to the dungeons and found the boys scuffling in front of his office instead of waiting quietly, his frown deepened. Angrily, he snatched the collars of both Harry's and Draco's robes.

"Enough!" he snarled in their faces before wandlessly throwing open his door and hurling them inside. He then gestured crudely for the other three students to enter the room and slammed the door loudly behind them.

"We were just defending ourselves, sir!" Draco stated nervously while the other two Slytherins nodded forcefully.

"You attacked Hermione!" Harry spat.

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "She wasn't doing anything, but trying to stop us! She didn't even have her wand out, you stupid ferret!"

"You see! They even admit they were –"

"SILENCE!" Snape bellowed, slamming his hands down on his desk without caring that he was dripping water over all of his ungraded essays. "I did not give any of you idiots permission to speak! Fighting on school grounds is expressly forbidden! If the lot of you is too stupid to figure out why, _that_ is why! Miss Granger could have died, and you all are responsible!"

"But, sir –"

"No!" The Potions Master interrupted the blonde's attempt at protest and rose to his full height. "Fifty points will be taken from each of your houses for your participation in this foolhardy endeavor! Fifty points from _each_ of you!"

Five jaws dropped in response, each of them shocked that Slytherin had come out worse in the deal.

"What about Granger?" Draco snarled. "Just because was too stupid to defend herself –"

Severus silenced him with a glare, and then turned to the two Gryffindors. "Potter, Weasley – loathsome as it is that I cannot expel you without the approval of your Head of House, you will report to her immediately for your punishment. And be assured I will be speaking to Professor McGonagall shortly, so do not even think of telling her anything besides what happened. Now go!"

Ron scrambled for the door, but Harry paused. "What about our wands?"

"You may have your wand back, Potter, when – and only when – Professor McGonagall comes to fetch it for you!"

The boy frowned, but relented when his redheaded friend pulled him from the room.

Snape waited until the door closed before rounding on the Slytherins. "If it were anyone else – anyone else! – you would all be expelled! Do you understand me? They may have started it, but you three morons couldn't stay out of it, could you? You have forced my hand – I could have had the bloody Gryffindors expelled if you hadn't stupidly tried to prove your superiority!

"Needless to say, I will be informing your parents of your idiocy." When smug glances were exchanged amongst the students, Severus narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms. "Do not think for one moment, gentlemen, that your parents will have any pride in your actions! Not if it includes defending you in front of the Dark Lord!"

At their suddenly sober expressions, he threw their wands onto the ground in front of them and then pointed forcefully to the door. "You will each serve detention with Professor McGonagall. Now get out of my sight."

Crabbe and Goyle immediately disappeared from the office, but Draco hung back after collecting his wand from the floor.

"If you believe my instructions did not apply to you, Malfoy, you are sadly mistaken!"

Draco shook his head slowly and walked towards the door. He paused for a moment and then closed it before turning back to face his irate Head of House.

"Sir, why would my father have to defend me to_ him_?"

_So the boy doesn't know._ Snape snapped his eyes to the blonde's face and let out a huff of air. He wrestled with whether or not to tell the young Malfoy anything, but eventually decided it might be beneficial for the girl to have some protection from Slytherin House. At the very least, it would prevent another situation like the one that afternoon.

"I highly doubt the Dark Lord would have appreciated the loss of his newest information source."

The young wizard widened his eyes and paled. "Granger's spying for the Dark Lord?"

Severus allowed himself a smirk at the boy's fearful expression. "I would have assumed your father would have informed you of it. The little swot now does exactly what I tell her to. I'm sure you can imagine how much more precarious your father's position would become if you were to be responsible for her death…or if you were to let the plan come to ruin in any manner."

Draco visibly gulped and nodded his head quickly before vanishing into the hallway. As the door shut behind him, Snape kicked his chair out from his desk and collapsed into it.

** X**

After being treated with a myriad of warming and drying spells and potions, Madam Pomfrey hesitantly allowed Hermione to leave the Hospital Wing. As the girl pushed through the infirmary doors, she was immediately taken aback by the sudden presence of the Headmaster standing in front of her.

"My dear," he said quietly. "Forgive me. It seems I am always startling you. It is not my intention."

She gave a nervous smile and shook her head lightly. "It's alright, sir."

"You are looking remarkably well," Dumbledore smiled. "I trust you are feeling better after your unfortunate dip in the Black Lake?"

_Unfortunate dip? I nearly died!_ Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes. I guess I have Professor Snape to thank for that."

The elder man's eyes were twinkling as he nodded. "I do hope, Miss Granger, that you have come to realize that Severus is not the same man you have had teaching you Potions. He does genuinely care about your well-being."

The young witch let out a sigh and glanced nervously about the hallway. Seeing no one, she frowned and rubbed her head. "Well, he has to, doesn't he? Seeing as his life is bound to mine. He's not exactly forgotten to remind me of that fact lately."

"I see," Dumbledore sighed softly. He glanced briefly at his shoes before once again smiling at her. "If you would be so kind, Miss Granger, as to escort an old man back to his office."

Hermione nodded politely and followed the Headmaster as he turned towards the nearest staircase. Their journey to the stone gargoyle was completed in comfortable silence, leaving her plenty of time to contemplate his motive. Dumbledore was old, but he certainly was not feeble. He could make his own way to his office. There was no need for her to climb several flights of stairs just for a polite conversation. Obviously, he wanted to talk about something that needed to be handled in private.

_Maybe about Voldemort?_ She shivered at the thought and wrapped her arms around herself. She would have assumed that Snape had filled him in, but perhaps he wanted to hear it from her herself. She supposed that she would demand the same thing if she were the head of the Order.

Glancing at the back of his head, she frowned as she considered the hint of sadness that had been in his eyes before he asked her to accompany him. He seemed disappointed that she did not quite believe his proclamation about Snape, but how could she really? Sure the Slytherin Head had been nicer to her, amiable even at times, but he was doing it because he had to. He was forced to care about her as it was equivalent with caring about himself. Even though she greatly appreciated his new civility, she could not convince herself that there was anything more to it than a spy trying to make the best of a difficult situation.

She had begun to wonder during the first few days after the encounter with Voldemort – he had seemed so caring. In the days that had followed, though, he had changed. It was probably her fault for overstepping her bounds and sneaking into his quarters. He had seemed angry upon finding her in the morning, and she had regretted it ever since. She had likely pushed him too far – especially after the Veritaserum fiasco concerning Lily. He had barely even looked at her in class on Monday, and she could practically feel the rage vibrating from him as he carried her to the Hospital Wing a short while ago. He had dumped her on the bed, barked at Madam Pomfrey, and practically punched his way through the doors to get away from her.

He was so angry, but it was not her fault. She had tried to keep the boys from dueling. If she had not done anything, there would probably have been five people in the infirmary instead. Though she did recognize his right to be cross – she _had_ risked both of their lives over a schoolyard fight. If Snape had been any slower in getting to her, they probably would both be dead right now.

Hermione glanced down at the black robes she had folded over her arm and realized it probably would not be the wisest idea to return them to their owner just yet. She was not quite ready to deal with him shouting at her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the stone gargoyle grinding against the floor as it moved out of the way. Dumbledore smiled down at her as they both stepped onto the rising staircase and waved the doors open as soon as they had reached the top. The doors closed with a gentle click a few seconds after they had stepped into the cluttered room.

"You may wonder why I requested you join me," he said softly as he stepped behind his desk.

The girl stayed silent, but nodded in response.

"I believe," he said with a small sigh, "that there are a few things you should see. I think they may give you… something more to ponder."

She raised her eyebrows in confusion and watched nervously as the Headmaster waved his hand to call forth his Pensieve. She stared in apprehension at the large metal bowl sitting upon the desk while he poured in a vial of blue shimmering liquid.

"Memories of mine," Albus explained with a glance in her direction. "I presume you know how this works after hearing of Harry's experiences."

"Yes," she nodded.

"You appear troubled," he noted.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably as she stepped closer to the desk. "Forgive me, Professor, but I'm not exactly keen on submerging my head in water at the moment."

The elder wizard chuckled and stroked his beard. "How very careless of me not to consider that. My apologies, Miss Granger. You need only touch your forehead to the fluid, and I can safely guarantee that no harm will come to you while viewing."

She let out a deep breath and set down Snape's robes as she glanced into the swirling medium. "Will you be joining me?"

"Only at your request," he answered.

The girl sucked in large gulp of air and closed her eyes. She had faced Voldemort for Merlin's sake – she could do this on her own. Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned over the bowl and touched her forehead to the cool liquid. Almost immediately she felt herself falling into the bowl. Panic washed over her for a split second when she pictured herself drowning in the Black Lake, but the fear vanished when she found herself landing in one of the chairs facing Dumbledore's desk.

At first she wondered if had not entered the Pensieve correctly, until she caught sight of the blackness of the windows. Widening her eyes, she glanced about the room and wondered at the strange reality of being able to physically enter another's memories. The only clue to it not being real was the slight haziness to the room, as though someone had not cleaned the fireplace properly.

The Headmaster was writing something out on parchment while she sat studying the composition of the memory. She was just rising to view what he was working on when a sudden brightness leaped through the window, causing both she and the elder wizard to jump. It took her a second to realize she was staring at a patronus – a silver doe with large, sad eyes.

_"Front entrance… require immediate attention,"_ the doe said before vanishing. Hermione did a double take at hearing the deep voice of the Potions Master coming from such a delicate creature.

Almost immediately, she was standing next to Dumbledore while he stood in the moonlit hallway just around the corner from the entrance hall. Suddenly, she could hear hurried footsteps and the wizard beside her cleared his throat.

_"Severus, my dear boy – you gave me quite a scare with that Patronus of yours. It did make me curious, though, as to why an owl wouldn't have sufficed to inform me of your return."_

The girl watched carefully as the dark form appeared before them. She could see a flicker of emotion in the man's eyes before he donned his usual impassivity. She gulped audibly as she noted what he held in his arms. It was her own bloodied body, bundled into his robes and held protectively against his chest.

_"My apologies, Headmaster. I felt the situation would be handled best with exigency."_

_"Indeed, you are right,"_ Dumbledore nodded. _"Madam Pomfrey is already expecting you."_

_"Do you feel that wise, sir?"_

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she studied the strange expression on Snape's face.

_"Is the uncertainty for Miss Granger's sake, Severus – or yours?"_

Her eyes snapped momentarily to the Headmaster, and she frowned at the question. The younger wizard had not immediately gone on the defensive, which surprised her. She could tell Snape was contemplating something and she stepped nearer him to have a closer look at his eyes. There was a pained and fearful look to them, and his gaze flickered briefly down to the unconscious girl in his arms. She knew at that moment that he was not concerned solely for himself.

_"I am of the opinion that the fewer people who know of this, the better it will be for all of us. That is all I mean."_

The young witch instinctively stepped out of the way as Dumbledore placed his hand on Severus's shoulder.

_"Madam Pomfrey will do everything that can possibly be done for her, and will do so with the utmost of discretion. I am also quite sure that any suggestions or improvements you may have in regards to Miss Granger's care will be more than welcomed."_

Before she barely had time to look at the Slytherin Head, he had brushed past her and disappeared quickly up the stairs.

Suddenly, she was back in the Headmaster's office standing beside the man as he tossed in a pinch of floo powder and kneeled before the green flames.

_"Severus?"_ he called out.

_"Yes?"_ came the strained reply. Hermione could barely make out his face as he stepped towards the fireplace on his end. She could not be certain, but it did appear that his eyes were shining more than usual – as if he were fighting back tears.

_"Ah, there you are. I had thought perhaps you would stop by my office -"_

_"There were other concerns that required my immediate attention,"_ Snape interrupted. "_I do apologize."_

_"Apologies are not necessary, Professor." _Dumbledore shook his head and stayed silent for a few moments. "_You are tired, Severus. Rest now, and we will discuss the status of things after the sun rises."_

The girl wholeheartedly agreed with the elderly wizard's assessment. Snape did look rather worn out, as well as looking as though he would rather be anywhere else than talking to his superior.

_"Something else on your mind, Headmaster?"_ he asked when Dumbledore did not end the connection.

_"Our memories are what shape us, Severus. As much as it troubles you and I, Miss Granger must not be deprived of hers."_

Before she had time to consider that statement, the surroundings faded and reappeared – this time with the first rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows. A knock sounded on the door, and a seated Dumbledore called out for Severus to enter.

Her chest clenched at the appearance of the usually formidable man. His skin was paler than normal, dark circles were painted beneath his eyes, and there was absolutely no pride in his step. He looked exhausted – and beaten, for that matter.

_"Come in, come in. Have a seat."_

Snape stepped forward and hesitantly placed his hand on the back of a chair. _"If I may, I'd rather stand."_

Hermione pinched her lips together to avoid smiling at the horrible glare Dumbledore received at his offering of a lemon drop. She watched curiously as the dark-haired man removed a memory and deposited it in the Pensieve for the Headmaster to view. She had an unsettling feeling as she realized exactly what the memory would entail.

As Snape moved towards the window, she followed him. She watched as he closed his eyes and leaned against the window's edge. When some of the tension eased from his face, she realized he must have fallen asleep. The girl sighed a small breath of relief at the knowledge. His breathing began to slow, and she had to repress the urge to move the hair that had fallen into his face.

When a throat clearing occurred shortly thereafter, the Potions Master's eyes flew open and for a second it appeared that he was staring straight at her. When her heartbeat slowed, she realized, though, that he was staring at the man behind her.

_"Severus… I…"_

Anger flashed across the younger man's features as he scowled and stepped closer to the Headmaster.

_"That_," he pointed to the Pensieve, _"is what you have asked of me. You do realize, sir, that it's not just picnics and pumpkin juice!"_

The rage exuding from the man was frightening, and Hermione found herself shirking away from him as the Headmaster took on a pained expression.

_"I am fully aware of what horrors Voldemort and his followers are capable, Severus - as were you when you agreed to be of service to me and to the Order."_ The frustration in his voice seemed surprising. _"I have asked no more of you, Severus, than I know what you can withstand."_

"_Withstand?"_ If he had been angry before, he was outright livid now. _"I just stole the innocence of a student - of a child - and shall be forced to do it again! I ask of you, Headmaster, exactly how am I to _withstand_ that?"_

Hermione felt tears forming in her eyes as she recognized just how affected he had been. She assumed that Snape put up just as much of a front with the Headmaster as with anyone, so for him to show so much anger was deeply troublesome. She could see him become angrier with Dumbledore's words and she discovered a sudden desire to slap the old man.

The office shifted again, and she watched as McGonagall glared daggers at Snape and tore out of the room. From the two men's positioning, she surmised that the memory took place immediately after she had run from the room at the notification of her parents' deaths. She bit her lip, grateful to the Headmaster at least for not forcing her to sit through that interaction again. It had played enough in her head, that she nearly had it memorized.

Snape sighed and stared at the door in concern. _"She must begin Occlumency training immediately."_

_"I agree she will need lessons,"_ Dumbledore nodded, _"but surely we might wait until she is in a better state."_

_"It will be in her – our best interest to begin straightaway,"_ the younger man stated. _ "The Dark Lord won't exactly wait until she is in a better state, and neither should we."_

The Headmaster sighed and took his seat. _"You are right as usual, Severus. Give her the day to rest, I think, and you can send for her tomorrow."_

The tall man spun around in surprise_. "Me? I cannot teach her! You must be the one –"_

_"Do not let your lessons with Harry discourage you, Severus,"_ he interrupted_. "I am sure you will be a more than competent teacher for Miss Granger."_

_"That is not the point, sir, and you know you are fully aware of that fact! I will not subject her to my presence any more than necessary."_

Dumbledore sighed and rested his elbows on his chair. _"You are the one she must learn to trust. You will be the one to teach her."_

_"Albus –"_

_"Severus, I have made my decision,"_ he stated forcefully. _ "You are the one who stands before Lord Voldemort, and so you must be the one to prepare her for it."_

The walls of the office seemed to cave in around her and as soon as she had blinked she was standing beside the Headmaster as he pushed open the door of Snape's dungeon office. As she stepped into the room, she could see the man was standing over a bubbling cauldron.

_"Dreamless Sleep?"_ Dumbledore queried as he peered at the brew.

Snape nodded and removed his stirring rod. _"I thought it prudent to replenish my stores."_

_"You do not use it anymore, Severus," _the old man said quietly. _"For Miss Granger?"_

The dark-robed wizard sighed and stared at the floor. _"She does not sleep without… she does not sleep."_

_"You share her nightmares," _the Headmaster intoned sadly.

Snape closed his eyes and rubbed his face. _"She does not eat, either, unless forced. Perhaps if she sleeps, her appetite will return."_

_"I have never seen you so concerned over a student," _Dumbledore said with a small smile.

_"She interrupts my sleep," _he snarled.

Hermione sighed at the admission, but narrowed her eyes at the fact he had offered it so quickly. Examining the look on the Slyterin's face as he turned back towards his cauldron, she could see his expression told a different story than did his words.

She had little more time to observe him before the scenery melted back into the Headmaster's office. She stood behind Dumbledore's chair as Snape pushed through the doorway and visibly limped towards them. Hermione frowned as she noticed herself curled up in the chair by the fireplace, realizing that she had never noticed he had been that injured.

_"Severus, we're glad to have you back. Minerva was quite beside herself with worry."_

Snape glanced at him in disbelief and rubbed his forehead as soon as he dropped into the seat.

_"And how was Tom this evening?"_

Hermione allowed a small smile at the Potions Master's snort.

"_You make it sound like it was a blooming social visit."_ The man paused and sneered. "_The Dark Lord's just peachy – still all bent out of shape about not being the supreme ruler of the wizarding world and all, but I'm sure he'll get over it soon."_

The girl erupted into a toothy grin as she watched the man sigh and pick at his robes. Movement by the fireplace caught her attention, and she sighed at the sight of herself waking up.

_"It seems Madam Lestrange has been deprived of a spot of fun and feels that I am to blame. She put up such a fuss, the Dark Lord deemed it necessary, in the interest of maintaining order amongst the ranks, for us to put it to rights."_

_"And for only this you were summoned?"_

Snape shrugged and pinched his eyes shut briefly. _"The Dark Lord was, of course, particularly interested in how I was getting along with my new... pet."_

Hermione startled when the man launched out of his chair and spun to face her other self. She could see the emotions on her face, and she closed her eyes, remembering how upset she had been by the phrase.

_"My dear girl, apologies are in order. I had nearly forgotten you were here. I am quite sure Severus meant you no harm."_

She frowned realizing that by 'nearly forgotten' the Headmaster really meant 'not forgotten.' He clearly could see her from his vantage point.

_"Pet?"_

The young witch opened her eyes at the sound of her own scratchy voice. She watched sadly as the book fell to the floor and Snape tried to grab her arm before she sprinted out of the room. He then spun around and kicked the leg of the desk.

_"Fuck!"_ She could see the pain shoot across his face as he sent an inkwell flying across the room. She winced as it shattered, and Snape collapsed into his chair in defeat.

The Headmaster passed by her and turned to the window. _ "I don't suppose you are going to tell me why Madam Lestrange felt so slighted by you."_

_"You would be correct, Headmaster. I assure you it has no bearing on my position or the Order, and therefore does not concern you at this time."_

_"You and she are once again on good terms?"_

Hermione pulled her eyebrows together in concern as she watched the man groan and begin rubbing his leg.

_"I allowed her to take a few liberties with my personal well-being, and after she got in a few nasty hexes, the Dark Lord declared the debt repaid. I was then permitted leave to tend to my wounds."_

_"I thought we agreed, Severus, that you would return to the school if you were in need of healing. Your position is of too much value to risk on improper care."_

_"You agreed."_ Snape rolled his eyes. "_I, on the other hand, know that I am perfectly capable of healing myself. It's not as though Bellatrix was actually permitted to kill me."_

The girl let out a deep breath, remembering how he had healed her injuries on several occasions. She knew firsthand that he was competent at healing, and it saddened her to think of how injured he could have been to still return with a limp.

_"Besides, I had a few errands to run before returning."_

_"Miss Granger's supplies could have been sent for. It was highly unnecessary of you to go to Diagon Alley and personally fetch them for her."_

Her brow raised in surprise. She had just assumed that he had ordered the books. Never had she considered that he would have personally gone after them – while injured, no less.

_"I was out anyway."_

Hermione did not know whether to laugh or cry at the casual-sounding statement. Apparently, the Headmaster seemed to share her sentiment, opting to change the subject instead.

_"Hermione did remarkably well this afternoon. Her technique is just as extraordinary as you described to me."_

_"Indeed."_

As the two men fell silent, the young witch crossed her arms and moved to sit on the edge of Dumbledore's desk. She tilted her head and stared at the brooding man in front of her, wondering if he had actually boasted of her abilities or if the Headmaster was exaggerating again. She could tell that Snape was seriously thinking about something, and a spark of curiosity ignited within her. She wanted to know what it was he was contemplating.

_"She was quite concerned for your safety, Severus."_

The girl swallowed anxiously as his dark eyes met hers. She knew that he was looking through her to the Headmaster, but she could not help but feel as though their eyes were connected. It was because of this that she was able to identify the pain and shame that flickered across his countenance.

"_I know,"_ he said softly before his voice and expression became hard again. _"It was unbelievably…distracting."_

While Dumbledore sighed, Hermione grimaced and rubbed her face. She had never meant to distract him – especially when he was facing Voldemort. Blowing out a deep breath, she wondered offhandedly why he had not been more frustrated with her. Never having peace and quiet in your own mind – always having someone else chattering over your own thoughts –would be enough to make anyone crazy.

_"She wants to trust you. Let her."_

She looked up as Snape raised from his chair and looked at the desk near where she was sitting. _"She's better off not to."_

"Why?" she whispered, momentarily forgetting that he could not answer her. She let out another sigh when the office disintegrated into a darkened, dust-covered classroom. A small gasp escaped her when she realized it was the room where he had taken her after the Welcoming Feast, only it had been completely destroyed. All of the tables, desks, and chairs had been blasted into splinters, and in the midst of the rubble, Snape knelt on the floor with a desperate look on his face.

"_I see you've taken to redecorating again,"_ Dumbledore said quietly. "_Severus –_"

_"Don't_," the Slytherin whispered with the darkest of glares.

_"—I am sorry." _

Snape immediately pulled away from the Headmaster's touch and rose to his feet. Hermione could tell that it took more effort for him to mask his expression this time. "_It had to be done."_

A split second later, the room once again shifted into Dumbledore's office. The old wizard sat at his desk while Snape stood behind one of the chairs. The latter let out a pained breath and winced as he gingerly placed a hand to his side.

_"Severus, I must insist on you visiting the infirmary."_

_"I-it doesn't hurt much,"_ the younger man obviously lied as he gripped the chair fiercely. _"She couldn't have fractured more than a few ribs."_

_"You are punishing yourself unnecessarily,"_ Dumbledore sighed.

_"I…will…be…fine,"_ Snape spat with a glare.

_"You are not the one to blame for this situation."_

_"Am I not?"_ the man shouted, grimacing in pain_. "I'm the one who waited too long! I knew the signs and still did nothing. I thought… I didn't think it would progress so quickly. I could have… I could have spared her the physical pain, at least."_

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and blinked back tears. She did not want to watch him continue to stand there in pain. He had told her that he was uninjured, but he had not been. It was not his fault, though! She had known it at the time, but she was acutely aware of it now. And when Professor McGonagall angrily stormed out of the fireplace, she closed her eyes and leaned against the window.

She could not bear to watch her Head Witch shouting at and threatening him. She could hear his agonized gasp as he backed into something and jarred the ribs that she had broken.

_"Spare me the dramatics, if you would. I've already heard all of the gory details of this evening, so count yourself lucky to still be breathing."_

_"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"_

_"Because I want answers,"_ she huffed. "_For instance - Miss Granger seems to be under the impression that you tried to drug her this evening. Why would that be?"_

_"Drug her?"_ he asked, surprise evident in his tone. _"With what exactly?"_

_"Olvideregrete."_

_"WHAT?"_

Hermione winced at the angered confusion in his voice and opened her eyes to stare at the ceiling. She half-listened to the rest of the memory, but could not stand to watch it. Snape had only been trying to relieve her pain, and she had all but accused him of supplying her with a date-rape drug. It was no wonder the man had been so angry during the next day's classes.

It was not until the walls of the office disappeared that she let out a sigh and turned to face the next memory. The room she was standing in had a long table. Dumbledore sat at the head of the table, while the rest of the staff sat around it. Snape sat near the middle of the table, next to Remus and across from the deputy headmistress.

_"Does anyone hold any other concerns?"_

_"I had a concern, Professor,"_ Remus said as Snape sighed and dropped back into his seat. _"It's about Miss Granger."_

Hermione's eyes snapped to the werewolf's face and she frowned at the mention of her name.

_"It seems she's having a difficult time adjusting since the attempt on her family."_

As several of her professors began nodding, she angrily crossed her arms and blew out a puff of air. She glared at her Ancient Runes and Arithmancy professors in turn as they each expressed their concerns, before letting her bitter gaze settle on Remus. At the sound of Snape snorting, she flicked her eyes to his annoyed expression.

_"Something you care to add, Severus?"_

The girl felt her expression softening at his scowl.

_"Only that I see no need to waste my time discussing this. It's pathetic to watch you all whinging about how your shining pupil has become just as dull as the rest of them. Though if you would take two seconds to pull the bloody cotton from your ears and listen to what you've actually said, perhaps you'd realize that your star has only dimmed her brightness only enough to not cause permanent blindness to those around her._

_"I'm willing to predict that half of the students in your class failed the assignment, Septima, and yet you're griping that the highest score isn't as high as it could have been. Did she get one wrong? Two? Merlin, let me alert the _Prophet _for you. Perhaps you should focus on the rest of the dunderheads who are struggling to keep their heads above water instead of the one who is swimming circles around them._

_"And you, Remus. For Merlin's sake, you'd be hard-pressed to find seven people in this very room who could produce an adequate Patronus every day. How many years did it take you before you could produce yours? I happen to remember quite clearly how futile your attempts were at her age. Are you really that unbalanced about the fact that a 16-year-old girl can't master magic of that magnitude two days after leaving the infirmary?_

_"Unless, of course, I was misinformed about the girl suffering a turn of ill health. If that is the case, Headmaster, I will gladly zero out her marks for her absence in class, even if she did come to my office on her own time, looking to brew the potion she had missed._

_"I, for one, will be glad to teach an entire class period without her hand frantically waving about in my face. It's about time the girl learned some restraint, and it's bloody well time for the rest of her classmates to pull their heads out of their arses and answer the questions their own damn selves."_

A warm smile came to the witch's lips as she listened to him defend her performance to his colleagues. There was no need for him to do that – it posed no real threat to their safety – and yet he had still chosen to do it. She glanced around at the shamed expressions on each of her professor's faces, minus McGonagall's amused and Remus's determined looks, and relished in the happy feeling spreading through her body.

She waited patiently as the scene before her faded into blackness. Hermione let her eyes adjust to the low lighting and realized she was standing in Professor Snape's darkened chambers. The man appeared from the bedroom and gently began pulling the door shut. Before he closed it completely, she managed to make out her own sleeping form lying on his bed.

"_Severus_," Dumbledore said quietly as he took a seat on the sofa. _"I grew nervous upon not hearing from you."_

Snape wiped a hand across his tired face and perched on the edge of his chair. _"I apologize, Headmaster, but my presence was requested here."_

_"Oh, I see," _the elder wizard responded, a smile dancing in his eyes.

The girl's eyebrows pulled together as she glanced at the clock on the mantle of the fireplace and noticed that it was nearing five in the morning. She blew out an amazed breath and turned back to stare at the dark-haired man in the chair. She had not known that he had stayed with her. She had assumed up until now that he had left as soon as she was asleep.

Slowly settling into the couch, she felt her cheeks flush. She had asked him to stay, and he had done so.

_"I take it everything went as you expected."_

Severus let out a shuddering sigh and covered his face with his hands. He then shook his head. _"I had not foreseen how… enthusiastic the Dark Lord would be in his efforts. He has not been so damaging since his unfortunate return, but even then…"_

Hermione pulled her feet beneath her as she watched him fall silent.

_"And Miss Granger? How did she fare?"_

Snape leaned forward and glanced briefly at the bedroom door. _"She did…she…she was remarkably strong."_

"What?" she gasped in disbelief.

_"She will need a fair amount of rest, Headmaster. It will likely take a few days for her head to return to normal."_

_"She will be excused from her classes,"_ Dumbledore nodded. _"Shall I clear your schedule as well?"_

The younger man sighed and contemplated the question for a long moment. _"I think I will be of more use in the classroom."_

_"You could use rest as well, my boy."_

Severus closed his eyes. _"There is a difference between needing rest and being able to attain it."_

The witch rubbed her arms and wondered why he would not have taken the Dreamless Sleep draught. Her eyes widened suddenly – she could not have been dreaming that night. Her lips parted at the realization that he had actually said those things to her. He_ had_ been proud of her.

As she smiled, Snape's quarters vanished and she immediately felt herself being tugged out of the Pensieve. She felt tears forming as she stood back from the bowl and faced the Headmaster. She wiped at her eyes and then folded her arms against her chest.

"There is one other thing you should see," Dumbledore said quietly, holding out a piece of parchment.

Hermione accepted the paper and scanned her eyes across the spiky handwriting. "What is this?"

The Headmaster sighed and descended into his chair. "The first assignment I required of Severus was to provide a detailed account of each of the Dark Lord's practices."

Her hands began to shake as she briefly skimmed over the description of the binding ceremony. She did not know why she needed to read about it – she had experienced it firsthand. She still had nightmares about it periodically. It was not something she would likely ever forget in this lifetime or the next.

Letting out a weak breath, her gaze skipped down to the bottom of the parchment where Snape had penned out a list of known offenders and their victims. The girl squeezed her eyelids shut as her thumb traced across her own name listed as the victim of Severus Snape. She wanted nothing more than to erase the line of ink, or at least to alter it to reflect the fact that both she and Snape were victims of Lord Voldemort. She knew, though, that neither action would remove the guilt that he obviously felt.

Sighing, she opened her eyes and glanced briefly at the other names written above theirs. Her stomach turned a bit at the name Antonin Dolohov as she remembered the depraved smile upon the man's face after he had severely wounded her during the battle at the Department of Mysteries. With a sympathetic mind, she glanced at the woman's name penned to the immediate right of Dolohov's. It was not a name she recognized, but that did little to ease her concern. Someone else was suffering worse than she was, bound to a man who had no qualms about inflicting pain and torture.

When she noticed the set of dates listed beside the pair, she frowned.

"What does this mean?" she asked, turning it so the Headmaster could see.

Dumbledore squinted to read the numbers. "Those are the dates of the binding, I believe. The first date is when it was set in place, and the second when it ended."

"Ended?" Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean it ended?"

The elder man closed his eyes and dipped his head. "In death, I am sorry to say."

Hermione quickly snatched the paper back to look at the dates again. "But this says… the date… it says she died in 1991. That can't be. I _know_ he was still alive this summer. He was the one…he was at the Ministry."

"Antonin Dolohov is still alive, yes," he confirmed. "The young Miss Turner most unfortunately is not. According to Severus, she was murdered when Dolohov grew tired of her. His efforts of finding a replacement, however, were hindered upon his arrest after Voldemort fell from power."

"N-no." Her entire body was shaking as she met his blue eyes. "It c-can't… Professor Snape said…he said…"

She glanced back at the parchment and quickly read through the description in its entirety.

**_…The life of the victim in effect becomes bound to that of the one enacting the bond. The victim shall be unable to bring unwanted harm to his or her bonder and will similarly perish in the event of the bonder's death…_**

"But he said his life was dependent on mine," she whispered, raising her eyes to the Headmaster. "It isn't, though, is it?"

Dumbledore sighed sadly and shook his head.

"_I_ am bound to him," she enunciated slowly, "but he is _not _bound to me."

At the Headmaster's silence, Hermione slowly sank into a chair. She blew out a deep breath, dropped the paper into her lap, and covered her face with her hands. "Well, I guess it makes more sense that way, doesn't it? I mean, why would the Dark Lord risk his spy's life on mine?"

She closed her eyes for half a minute and then leaned forward. "Why would he lie to me?"

"I think," he responded, steepling his fingers, "that is something only Severus can truly answer."


	35. Of Truth and Lies

**A/N: Sorry for the delay again. Got busy with work, and suffered a bout of writer's block. And after meticulously re-checking this chapter, I have now discovered just how incompetent Microsoft Word's grammar check really is. Ha ha.  
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**Also... to those of you who have expressed concern over what the changes at FF mean for this story, I really appreciate you all! Part of the reason it took me so long to get this typed up is that I've been scouring the internet for possible sites to back up this story in the case it gets removed. My problems are thus - either the sites take up to 10 days to approve a chapter (one at a time - taking nearly a year to post what I have so far), or I would have to re-set the timeline of the entire story so that Hermione would be of age to begin, or the site is refusing to let me register. Grr. So, what I have decided to do so far is to post these chapters on my formerly-unused LiveJournal page. So far I've posted the first four chapters there, and am in the process of 'grammar-nazi-ing' my other chapters before posting them.  
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**The link is wildcat-bluejay . livejournal . com (without spaces). It's also posted on my profile page. Hopefully this is an acceptable alternative.  
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**This has been a really long Author's Note, but I still want to thank my reviewers! Over 1,000 reviews! I seriously can't believe it. You all are awesome.**

**Love you hnwhitlock2000, Eebaral Knight, woodshark, earlyable, Zoek80, Startled Boris, Sev01, Stacy Vorosco, Seph7, vampirela69, simplyy gabrielle, horcrux horror, Angelwells, xSiriusxstalkerx, snapeophil, Phoenixica24, AllyZ, Petite Mule, Jani, earley1991, MCannon5887, Miakahitoshi, BlooDsucKkerR69, clio, alicehsbb, InezSophia, Lover of Fantasy, justy13, lia, Golfbabe87, ancim, DuchessRLR, ambercrombie541, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, anniekun93, cinnamin, Lust for Life, StarsRFire, HPFanGirl01, Mel, tennis14321432, Free2BMe1, Veggemite, MyCatSammy, llorolalluvia, melonka, xxxkimmixxx, Chelsea, Reader, makaem, Annie27766, anon, spottie782, Mills87, DedicatedReader, severus49, emdramaqueen, Annbella, ptite mac, mairamout, Slinkiee, Serena Morningstar, Lyra Lupin, lycaria, Jinx452, Tilly, SweetieXoX27, and littlebirdmjfan!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 35  
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After several minutes were spent gathering her thoughts, Hermione sucked in a deep breath before knocking softly on Snape's office door. When no call met her in response, she attempted to turn the knob. The door swung easily open to reveal the dark-haired man sitting perfectly still in his chair. His hair and robes were still visibly damp as he stared blankly at the wall.

The girl sighed as she quietly closed the door behind her and stepped over to his desk. A part of her had wanted to storm down to the dungeons and angrily confront him, but when she had remembered the pain and guilt that had been reflected in his eyes, she knew she could not do that to him. The man had cared for her – and cared about her, as she now knew – so the least she could do was approach him civilly. And now as she stared at him, undoubtedly lost in his own tortuous thoughts again, she was even more concerned about how she should treat their conversation.

"Professor?"

When he did not answer right away, she dropped his teaching robes onto the wooden chair and glanced at the top of his desk. It did not seem right for her to rudely bring him back to reality as she had done the last time. Spotting her wand lying next to Ron's and Harry's, she calmly reached for it and whispered a drying spell.

At the feel of magic washing over him, Severus raised his eyes to meet hers. He lifted his brow in surprise and wiped his face. "Are you alright, Miss Granger?"

"Yes," she nodded with a small smile, leaning against his desk. "I wanted to thank you for saving me. I know that it wasn't actually something you had to do."

His eyes narrowed as she handed him the folded sheet of parchment. "What's this?"

"You should know, Professor," she intoned lightly. "You wrote it."

Snape scowled and dropped the paper onto his desk without even bothering to look at it. "He should never have shown you that."

"Why?" she asked. "Why wasn't I to know that I'm not responsible for your life?"

The man looked at her for a second, but then dropped his gaze and said nothing. Hermione sighed and stepped around the corner of the desk, perching on the edge directly in front of him. Cautiously, she raised her hand and brushed the hair from his face. "I know why you lied, Professor. Professor Dumbledore seemed to think I couldn't figure it out on my own, but I do know why."

"Please don't, Miss Granger," he said, batting her hand away and pushing out his chair.

Her eyes followed him as he crossed the room. "You did it to protect me. I know as well as you do – there were several days where the only thing keeping me alive was the knowledge that if I died, so did you. I couldn't bear the thought of taking someone else's life along with my own. I probably would have done it if it hadn't been for you."

His shoulders slumped as he stared at the wall. "The fact that your death would not have immediately resulted in my own does not mean that my life would not have been forfeit when the Dark Lord heard of your demise."

"Right, because that silver tongue of yours couldn't possibly have saved you again," she muttered as she stood. When he spun to face her with an odd stare, she crossed her arms. "I don't disagree that he would have been disappointed in you, Professor, but I highly doubt that he would have killed you. His initial plan may have failed, but my death so soon after Sirius's – and by my own hand, no less – would have shaken Harry greatly, which would have been a desirable outcome on its own.

"Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix LeStrange blundered worse than that, and they are both unfortunately still breathing. Merlin, he even manipulated his puppets at the Ministry to keep Malfoy out of Azkaban."

"Perhaps," Snape said with a sigh, shifting his gaze to the floor. "Though Lucius has lost something much more valuable than his own freedom."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

The wizard shook his head and sat against the edge of a table. When he said nothing further, she sighed. "Look, I can't say that I'm terribly angry with you for not telling me, because I understand why you didn't. What does bother me, however, is the impression I have that you weren't ever going to tell me. You would have let me go on believing that your life was as much bound to mine as mine is to yours, wouldn't you?"

"Contrary to your beliefs, Granger," he answered quietly, "you do not need to know everything."

"But this!" She jabbed her finger into the surface of his desk. "This is something I need to know!"

"Why?" he narrowed his eyes. "How could knowing this possibly change anything for you?"

"Because then I wouldn't have to live with the fear that I could get you killed over my mistakes! When I was in the lake, I was so angry with myself because I thought you were going to die because I stupidly got between Harry and Draco! It's bad enough I have to worry about ruining everything in front of You-Know-Who. I'd like to not have to be afraid that you're suddenly going to drop dead because Cormac decides to accost me in the hallway!"

His eyes snapped to her face. "Has McLaggen attempted something further?"

"Not really, no," she shrugged. "But since Ron got his Prefect duties reinstated, I've made sure to keep him with me during rounds to discourage any possible attempts. Cormac certainly hasn't lost interest yet, though."

Snape blew out a long breath and rubbed his forehead. "Granger, you should be no less worried about getting yourself killed than you have been about me. My life is of no greater importance than yours."

"Yes, it is!" she pleaded. "You are so much more valuable to the Order than I am. My death wouldn't cost us the war – yours would!"

Scowling, he silently cursed anyone he could. The Dark Lord for creating the entire mess; Dumbledore for making everything about winning the war; himself for ever being desperate enough to seek out the Death Eaters; and Hermione for not recognizing her own self-worth.

"But that _isn't_ my point, Professor!" Hermione re-crossed her arms, continuing on before he even had a chance to counter her argument. "My point is… well, the point is that I would appreciate it if you were honest with me from here out. I think… I think I've earned that much at least. Please."

The man closed his eyes and turned his head to face away from her. After a few uncomfortable moments, he slowly nodded his head.

"Thank –"

"Before you waste your breath thanking me, there is something …" He grimaced and nervously gripped the edge of the table he was leaning against. "In the interest of honesty, I must confess…"

The young witch frowned at his inability to form his idea in words. _Confess what?_

He sighed and stared at the floor. "Regarding the death of your parents –"

_Confess? My parents_? Hermione felt her hands beginning to shake as the blood drained from her face. _No, no, no!_

"—I was responsible for the memory that the Dark Lord –"

"No!" she hissed, cutting off his words. "Don't you _dare_ say it!"

"Miss Granger –"

"No! Please d-don't tell me it was you," she whimpered, struggling to remain on her feet.

"Miss Granger –"

"It _can't_ be you! It wasn't _you_!" She anxiously placed both hands on the top of her head. "Tell me it _wasn't_ you!"

Severus closed his eyes as she screeched at him. "Hermione, you need to listen to me."

The girl was nearly hyperventilating as the images of her parents dying flashed before her eyes. At his unusually calm and demanding tone, however, she abruptly silenced her protests and stared at him angrily.

"I did _not_ kill your parents," he emphasized, opening his eyes to meet her gaze.

"B-but you just said –"

He held up a hand to interrupt her. "What I said was that I was responsible for the _memory_ of their deaths. I only showed the Dark Lord what he _wanted_ to see. I did not _kill_ them."

Her eyes widened as she felt her knees beginning to buckle beneath her own weight. "So, you're saying…"

"Hermione, your parents are alive."

Her lips parted in surprise and she shakily collapsed into his desk chair. She could not possibly have heard him correctly. "What?"

"Your parents are not dead," he clarified. "I apologize for making you think otherwise."

Hermione ran a hand through her hair as she kept her eyes locked onto his form. She was afraid to even blink for the fear of it all being a dream. She wanted to believe him – desperately wanted to believe him with all of her heart – but she had to know for sure. She needed certainty. She needed proof.

"How do I know you aren't… you aren't lying to me?"

Snape winced slightly, though he had fully expected the question. "Think about the memory, Granger. Does nothing strike you as odd?"

"What?"

"Think, Granger," he reiterated calmly.

She let out an exasperated breath, but closed her eyes as she let the images play out several times. _The cat running past and out the door, her mother rushing into the kitchen, her mother writhing on the floor, her father coming to her aid, and then the flash of green and her parents lying lifeless upon the floor….The cat running past and –_

Snape let out a relieved sigh when he saw her eyes flash open in clarity.

"Crookshanks!" she exclaimed as she stood. "Crooks would never have run from danger. He would have tried to protect them. He would have stayed to fight!"

"Like a demon from hell," Severus muttered beneath his breath, unconsciously glancing at the back of his hand.

Hermione took a hesitant step forward. "My parents really _are_ alive? It was all a lie? You _lied_ to me?"

His eyelids fluttered shut again as he nodded in shame. He could hear her quickly cross the distance between them and prepared himself for the blow he knew was coming. His eyes flew open in surprise, however, at the sudden impact against his chest.

The girl clasped her arms around him as tight as she could and buried her face against his neck. She did not speak, for a thousand repetitions of 'thank you' would never be enough to express her gratitude.

Snape's eyebrows pulled together in disbelief as her errant curls tickled his chin. He had expected full out rage from her – another head-spinning slap, at the least. He had betrayed her. He had forced her to grieve unnecessarily for months, caused her immeasurable pain and suffering, and yet she was embracing him. He did not understand it at all.

"I knew you didn't do it," she whispered, turning her head so her cheek rested against his shoulder. Tears of relief were beginning to trickle down her face. "I knew it."

"I am so sorry –"

"No," she interrupted, shaking her head as she felt him sigh. "Please don't, Professor. You kept them safe so I didn't have to."

Severus glanced at the ceiling in discomfort. "I burnt your house down."

Hermione squeezed him harder and laughed into his chest. "I don't care. As long as they're safe, that's all that matters."

"They are," he confirmed. Tentatively, he moved one hand from the table and rested it gently on the back of her head. When she made no effort to pull away, he relaxed somewhat and placed his other arm across her shoulders. "They are currently residing in a location known only to myself. I apologize that I cannot take you to see them, but there are too many curious eyes about."

She nodded against him and sniffled. She could handle not seeing them – it was enough just to know that they were alive. Letting out a deep breath, she allowed her thoughts to wander back to the memories Dumbledore had shown her. "That's why you had to let Bellatrix hurt you, isn't it?"

The wizard winced and looked towards the wall. He had never meant for her to find out about that, and migraine or not, he never would have spoken of it had he known she was within earshot. Nor would he have opted to use the Dark Lord's crude turn of phrase regarding their arrangement.

"The Dark Lord had…offered your parents to her as a reward if she were to complete a particular task. When she was given permission to … collect her reward, and found your house already in ruin," he stated slowly. "She was a bit out-of-sorts, as you can well imagine."

The girl shuddered against him. "That psychotic bitch was bad enough_ in_ sorts."

Snape snorted, but tightened his hold on her as he remembered her screaming under the attentions of Bellatrix's wand. He frowned and acknowledged the desire to put an end to the sadistic wench if she were ever to lay so much as a finger on the girl in the future.

"I'm sorry you had to do that, sir," she whispered a minute later. "And I'm really sorry about cracking your ribs."

His eyebrows narrowed suddenly and his mouth opened in surprise. She could have known about Bellatrix from her own recollection, but there was no possible way she could have known about that particular injury. Hermione had been in such a frenzied state during the encounter that he doubted she was aware of anything outside of her own panic and pain, and afterwards he had claimed to be entirely uninjured.

"Which one of the intrusive antiques told you?" he asked bitterly, though he was fairly certain of the answer. Minerva was nothing if not fiercely loyal to her friends, and he trusted her perhaps even further than he did Albus. Plus, the Gryffindor Head would have first attempted guilting him into telling the girl himself before she stooped to taking things into her own hands.

"Professor Dumbledore showed me."

"Of course he did," he grumbled, slowly balling his hands into fists. "How much else did he _show_ you?"

"Enough for me to understand, but undoubtedly more than you would like."

At the feel of him stiffening in discomfort, Hermione lifted her head far enough from his chest that she could look him in the eyes. "You showed the Dark Lord a false memory."

He glanced at her in confusion, startled momentarily by the change in subject. Forgetting his irritation with the Headmaster for the time being, he swallowed slowly and nodded once.

"Can you teach me how to do that?"

The man took in a deep breath, but eventually dipped his head in assent. She smiled at him in return, and was about to rest her head back on his shoulder when the fireplace flashed green. He immediately pushed her away and rose into an intimidating stance, while she tried to wipe the evidence of her tears from her face.

"Lupin," Snape snarled as the disheveled man stepped out from the fireplace.

Remus raised his head and glanced in surprise between the two of them. "Hermione, I must say I didn't expect to find you here."

She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around her waist. "I, erm, came down to thank Professor Snape for saving me."

"Yes, I heard that was quite the feat," he grinned, giving a wink towards Severus, who rolled his eyes and glared at the wall. "Are you feeling quite well?"

"Yes," she nodded emphatically with a smile. "Amazingly well now. Thank you, Professor."

Snape cleared his throat. "If you wish to chat with her, Lupin, do so in your own office. Otherwise, Miss Granger, you have your wand back, and you know where the door is."

Hermione nodded and started for the exit. "Good evening, Professors… and thank you again, Professor Snape."

Remus watched the other man grumpily wave her away and waited until the door had closed behind her. "Speaking of wands, I see you still have Harry's and Ronald Weasley's."

"I gave those two dunderheads explicit instructions that Minerva is the only one who shall retrieve their wands for them," he responded. "If you assume that I would mistake you for her, I will gladly inform the deputy headmistress of your slight to her physical appearance."

The werewolf chuckled and shook his head. "I mean no interference, Severus."

"And yet here you stand," the Slytherin muttered. "What do you want?"

Lupin held up his hands. "You were absent from supper. I only meant to check that you weren't suffering hypothermia."

"Oh, but I'm willing to bet Potter and Weasley were absent as well from the meal," Snape stated, crossing over to his desk, "And you really came to check that they were not suffering ill fates at my hands."

"I may have considered it," he conceded, "if it weren't for the fact I personally witnessed Minerva dragging them both away from the Great Hall by their ears."

A small smirk graced his lips as Severus stealthily slipped the parchment regarding the binding process into his drawer. "As you can see, I am fine. Perfectly capable of brewing for you."

Remus ignored the last comment, and glanced briefly at the door. "I also wanted to thank you for rescuing Miss Granger as it were. I thought it highly –"

"Unexpected?" he spat with a glare.

The Defense instructor sighed. "I was going to say courageous, and that you should be commended for it."

"She is a student under my care," Snape explained, organizing the pile of essays on his desk. "I was merely following obligations. Or am I to assume you would not have done the same if the roles had been reversed, and Mr. Malfoy had found himself sinking to the bottom of the Black Lake?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Is it really that difficult for you to accept a compliment?"

"Is there a particular reason you are so interested in Miss Granger's welfare, Lupin?" the Potions Master asked without raising his eyes from his paper shuffling.

"I have concern for all of my students," he answered, folding his arms. "Hermione has had a more difficult year than some of the others, and as a result, I feel she should receive more of our attention."

Severus raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Plus, I must admit, she does remind me a little of myself at that age," Lupin added with a reminiscent expression.

"She does not appear to be suffering from lycanthropy," the dark-haired man said with a tone of indifference. "She does appear, however, to possess the fortitude to correct her friends' aberrant behavior instead of simply following along like a lost puppy."

The other wizard noticeably winced and dropped his gaze to the floor. "We all made mistakes when we were young, Severus."

"Indeed," he responded tightly. _Some far worse than others._

As the fireplace flared to life again, Snape let out a loud sigh. "Did someone neglect to inform me that my office has been converted into hallway?"

Minerva rolled her eyes. "If you were that opposed to having visitors, Severus, you would disable your Floo."

"I have tried," he muttered disdainfully. "However, the Headmaster and the castle have seen fit to foil all of my attempts."

"Oh, you poor child," she cooed maliciously before glancing at the other man in the room. "Remus, how are you?"

The man opened his mouth to answer, but found himself cut off.

"He's absolutely peachy, Minerva," Snape responded, snatching up the two students' wands and handing them to her. "If there's anything else you need from him, he'll be happy to discuss it with you as he escorts you back to your office."

McGonagall snorted, pocketing the wands and offering a farewell to Lupin as he decided to take his leave. She then transfigured the rickety wooden chair into a maroon armchair and flopped into it.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know I had to sack my prefect," she sighed, straightening the skirt of her robes.

Severus grunted as he took his own seat. "I told you it was only a matter of time. I never understood why you ever considered _that_ Weasley as prefect material."

"And you believe Draco Malfoy to be?" Minerva raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"You forget, woman, that I am not as free to run my House as you are yours," he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She tensed her lips into a thin line and stared at the corner of his desk. "Well, anyway, I'm now faced with the daunting task of choosing a replacement."

"A sixth year male prefect, eh?" he sneered, crossing his arms. "Who's left, now that Weasley's proven yet again to be an eternal disappointment? Longbottom… Finnigan… Thomas… Potter? You are right, Minerva – your candidate pool is rather pathetic, isn't it?"

"Though they may not be the cream of the academic crop, Severus," she admitted with a haughty grin, "you'll note, however, that not a single one of those boys even considered a position on the Inquisitorial Squad… which is more than I can say for two-thirds of Slytherin House."

"Don't you have wands to distribute?" Snape asked pointedly.

The Deputy Headmistress waved her hand dismissively at the fireplace. "Oh, let them stew a bit longer. I think it might do them a spot of good."

** X**

Hermione sat curled up in a chair in the Gryffindor Common Room, staring absently at the parchment in front of her. It was supposed to be her Charms essay due the next morning, but so far she had only managed to scratch out a few sentences. Instead of focusing on the similarities among and differences between the _Avis_ charm and the _Papilio _charm – which conjured several different species of butterflies – her mind was continuously drifting towards her parents. Though she stood by her declaration to Snape that she did not care that she could not see them, she could not help but wonder where they were or what they were doing. She wondered how much they knew about what had happened to her, or even if they knew she was alive.

_No, they know that_, she corrected herself, glancing down at the ring on her right hand. Reflections of the fire danced in each facet of the sapphire and the smaller diamonds, and she found herself smiling as she stared at them. The first thing she had done after returning to Gryffindor Tower had been to tear up to her room and yank out the drawer of her bedside table. She had immediately snatched at the ring box and had carefully slid the piece of jewelry onto her quivering finger. Her parents were alive, and this ring was the most recent connection to them that she had in her possession.

Her quiet musings were soon interrupted by the opening of the Fat Lady's Portrait and the loud grumblings of her two best friends.

"I can't believe she's replacing me!" Ron groaned, holding his head. "Hermione's gonna kill me!"

Harry was about to make a bemoaning response when he noticed the girl watching them. "Hermione!"

The redhead looked up, and both boys quickly scampered towards her. Ron pulled her into a giant hug as soon as she had risen from her chair.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, continuing to squeeze her against his chest.

The witch winced, trying to pull away. After a few seconds, she finally managed to extract herself from his grasp. "I'm fine, Ron."

"You sure?" he pressed, looking her up and down as if she might have any obvious wounds. "I was – I mean, we were so scared. You weren't breathing!"

"I'm fine, Ron," she reiterated. "Honestly, I'm alright. Madam Pomfrey was able to put me back to rights after Professor Snape saved me."

She cast Harry a pointed look and added a mental 'again.' The boy seemed to get the message as he quickly looked down at his shoes.

"I'm really sorry, Hermione," he mumbled, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have done that – I should have listened to you. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Obviously you weren't, Harry," she said forcefully, before turning back to the other boy. "Now, who's replacing you?"

Ron sighed and scratched his head. "McGon – _Professor_ McGonagall. Since I've already been suspended as a prefect once this year, she said this was the last straw. Took my badge and everything."

Hermione let out a long sigh and rubbed her face. "And what about you, Harry?"

"She's suspending me as Captain for a month," he answered glumly.

"But not until after Saturday's match!" Ron piped up. "So that's something, right? And we don't play another until next term, so really it's not the big of a deal, mate. Katie only gets to run practices."

"I guess that's true," Harry agreed with a shrug.

The girl smiled at her friends, but sighed inwardly. She wondered if Snape knew yet that McGonagall had purposely lifted Harry's punishment until after the match against Slytherin. If he did, she rather doubted that he would be very pleased with the decision.

"Is that everything, then?" she asked. "I am sorry that you both got in trouble."

"It's not your fault," Harry replied. "You tried to stop us, and we nearly got you killed. I think we deserved to lose more than a hundred points."

"A hundred?" she grimaced.

Ron nodded enthusiastically and plopped onto one of the couches. "Yeah, but Slytherin got it worse. Snape actually took a hundred and_ fifty _from his own house! Never thought I'd see that."

Hermione felt the beginnings of a smile creeping onto her face and immediately bit down on her lip to stop it. When that failed to stop her good mood, she cleared her throat loudly and gathered up all of her supplies. "I think I'm going to go to bed early. I really am exhausted."

Both boys nodded in understanding and wished her a good night. She had just stepped onto the staircase into the girls' dormitory when she heard Ron give a loud sigh.

"You know, Harry – I never thought I'd ever be grateful for anything the Greasy Git did, but you have no idea how happy I am that he was there."

The girl leaned against the wall of the stairwell and let out a large breath. She was going to have to do something… and soon.

** X**

_"Perhaps he would be less likely to bother you if he had some sort of… distraction."_

Hermione scrunched up her nose as she contemplated the suggestion during breakfast in the Great Hall.

_Distraction… some sort of distraction…_ She glanced about the Gryffindor table, ignoring the Quidditch strategies being discussed around her. _Where am I going to find a bloody distraction?_

She had just turned her back to her plate when a familiar high-pitched batch of giggles caught her attention.

_Wait a moment._ Her eyes widened slightly at the idea, and she surreptitiously watched Lavender Brown laughing at something one of the seventh year boys had said. If she remembered correctly, her former roommate did used to have a crush on the youngest Weasley boy. In fact, that was part of the reason that Lavender and she had not ever become good friends. The blonde-haired girl had always been out-of-sorts since Hermione started spending so much time with Ron and Harry, and the two girls had never really worked things out between them since then.

_But could it actually work?_ Hermione pushed a chunk of sausage around her plate, sopping up the extra gravy. Popping the delicious bite into her mouth, she considered the possibility. Lavender was not the most intelligent biscuit in the tin, but she was quite pretty with her curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. It seemed that God had granted her with a larger chest than Hermione, and the girl knew how to purposely hold a guy's attention.

She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at Ron, who was oblivious to the intense scrutiny he was under. She was pretty sure that the redhead had snuck a few glances at Lavender during certain occasions in class or in the Common Room. Taking another bite of food, she sighed and decided it was worth a try.

The only problem now was setting the plan in motion. Hermione Granger was not the sort of girl who thought about playing matchmaker. She had never really noticed when boys were paying attention to her until they became painfully obvious about it. There was no way she could manipulate the situation from Ron's end – _that_ was likely to blow up in her face.

_So, that leaves me with Lavender_. The young witch smiled as she finished her breakfast. If there was one thing she knew about Lavender Brown, it was that the girl was more competitive than the Quidditch World Cup.

** X**

By the time Thursday evening arrived, Hermione was practically vibrating out of her skin. Snape had quietly instructed her to meet him in his office for their scheduled appointment. If they were working on apparition, they always met outside of his quarters; with defense, they met in the classroom; but the office meant Occlumency lessons. He had promised to teach her how to project false memories, and she was itching to get started. The sooner she started practicing, the more ready she would be whenever Voldemort summoned them again.

The girl shivered at the thought of the Dark Lord and effectively pushed her fear away. Snape was going to teach her lie, and she was going to be that much better able to protect him…and Harry.

Chewing on her lip, she eagerly knocked on his door. When he bid her entrance, she quickly slipped into the office and shut the door behind her.

"Good evening, Professor," she smiled, stepping over to the chair that had already been transfigured for her.

Snape grunted in response and set down his red-tipped quill. He studied her for a moment before leaning back in his chair. "Miss Granger, why did you ask me to teach you this?"

Hermione straightened in her chair. "Well, Vol – erm, You-Know-Who ordered me to find out why Harry keeps meeting with Dumbledore. I imagine it wouldn't be a good idea if I just ignore him and not ask Harry, and I really doubt that whatever they're doing is something that we should let _him_ see. If it were, Ron and I would already know what it is."

The man took a deep breath and glanced at the fire briefly. He wiped a hand across his face and nodded. "I'm afraid you're right on both counts, Granger."

Though the situation did not really call for it, she felt her cheeks flush at the admission.

"And so you've decided the best option is to show the Dark Lord a bold-faced lie," he continued. His face was pinched in consideration. After a few minutes of silence, he dropped his arms to the armrests. "There is one slight hiccup in your plan, however."

The witch's face fell slightly. "You don't think I can lie."

"On the contrary," he smirked, "I've found you to be quite the clever little liar. No, the issue is with the actual content of the memory that you plan to produce."

Hermione frowned and rested her forearms in her lap. "Well, I hadn't gotten that far yet."

"Before you can offer up false information, you need to know exactly what it is that you need to keep hidden," he explained. "If you don't have knowledge of what you are protecting, you run the risk of doing more damage than not."

"You're saying that I have to figure out what they're up to, anyway?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Then hide that information at the same time I'm showing him something else?"

"Precisely."

The girl let out a deep breath. "Well, couldn't you just ask Professor Dumbledore?"

Severus sighed and crossed his arms. "Regrettably, the Headmaster has not seen fit to inform me of his meetings with Potter, which means that he does not desire me to know. I have already inquired about it, and was given the distinct impression that he would rather the truth not be in either of our heads if our mental shields are corrupted."

Hermione wrinkled her nose and slumped back in her chair. "Is this seriously what you do all of the time? Figure out what Professor Dumbledore doesn't want you to know, bury it in your head, manipulate it into something it's not, and tell You-Know-Who?"

He snorted and gave a small smirk. "When I'm not figuring out what the Dark Lord doesn't want me to know, burying that in my head so he doesn't find out, and then telling the Headmaster."

"My head already hurts, and we haven't even started yet," she groaned, covering her face. When a minute had passed, she let her hands fall back into her lap. "Could I just figure out what they're _not_ doing, and use that?"

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of the validity of the suggestion. "If you can ascertain with complete certainty that it is not the subject of their sessions, and it is a viable possibility, we can proceed with it."

She nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around her torso. "So are you going to teach me how tonight?"

"I can promise you, Miss Granger, it will take much more than one night to accomplish this." He cleared his throat and rested his elbows on his desk. "In order for a fabricated idea to be accepted as a memory, you have to believe it happened just as much as you wish the viewer to."

The witch narrowed her eyes. "I have to believe it's real even though I made it up?"

"Indeed," he smirked. "Needless to say, we shall start small."

Hermione gave a weak smile, but sighed.

"Did you use the east or west set of staircases to reach the dungeons this evening?"

"Erm, the east," she answered, raising an eyebrow.

"In that case," he stated, "your first task is to convince me that you came by way of the west staircases."

When he offered no further instructions, she frowned and closed her eyes. Mentally, she started walking through the corridors necessary to get from the Fat Lady's Portrait to the far staircases. She catalogued the paintings and statues she would have encountered on the way, and attempted to remember the path from the western end of the dungeons to the Potions Master's office door. After several minutes, and several run-throughs of the route, she sighed and opened her eyes.

"Okay," she whispered.

Snape raised his brow and picked up his wand. With a smart flick, he wordlessly slipped into her head and viewed her first attempt. He pulled out rather quickly, not even bothering to hide his sniggering.

The girl let out a heated puff of air. "What?"

"Too many details, Granger," he sneered. "Or do you habitually document everything you see every time you walk through the halls?"

"I don't understand."

The man sighed and stood from his chair. He opened up a cabinet and pulled out a pensieve that was smaller and less ornate than the Headmaster's. He carried it over to his desk and then gestured for her to stand beside him.

"I am going to extract the false memory, as well as the real memory of your walking here, and I want you to note the differences." Snape straightened and held up his wand. "May I?"

Hermione let out a nervous breath, but nodded. "What do I do?"

"You'll picture the real memory in your head first, and when I say so, you will focus instead on your production," he explained. "I promise you, extraction does not hurt."

"Okay," she exhaled, pinching her eyes closed. The girl bit her lip as she felt the tip of his wand come to rest gently against her temple. She continued focusing on the memory, only vaguely aware of what he was doing. He had not lied – it did not hurt at all, but she could not quite describe the sensation. Almost like the feeling of peeling away dead skin from a sunburn. Then suddenly, the feeling was gone, and Snape was telling her to focus on the fabrication.

She tensed her eyebrows at the realization that the memory was still there. "Erm, shouldn't this one be gone?"

Severus gave a short chuckle and shook his head. "Memory extraction is a bit of a misnomer, Granger. It does not remove the memory so much as it withdraws a copy. You can only physically block memories with an _Obliviate_, but even then they can be recovered. Now, focus."

A few seconds passed before he instructed her to open her eyes. When he pointed her towards the swirling liquid in the brass bowl, she breathed deeply remembering the last trip she took into a pensieve. This time, however, she knew what to expect. These memories were completely harmless and would not leave her in tears.

She touched her head to the cool liquid and felt herself falling into place beside her memory self as they walked from Gryffindor Tower to the dungeons. The haziness she had noticed in Dumbledore's memories was present here as well. As soon as she had reached the familiar wooden door, it collapsed and sent her back to the Fat Lady's Portrait.

Her jaw dropped in astonishment as she noted the difference. Whereas the edges of the real memory had been fuzzy, everything was crisp and clear in this one. As she walked the alternate route to his office, she realized exactly what he meant by 'too many details.' In the real memory, she had been aware of everything she passed, but had not focused on them at all. The pictures were blurry as a result. In the fabricated images, however, the contents of every portrait and landscape stood out in much greater detail. The contrast between the two scenes was almost nauseating.

Hermione sighed as she was suddenly thrust out of the pensieve. "How do I fix that?"

"With practice," he smirked, gesturing for her to return to her seat. "To produce a believable image, you have to recognize what you would truthfully focus on if the situation were legitimate. Memories are variable, Granger. While no one remembers anything in the startling clarity of your first attempt, some do contain more information than others."

He winced and dropped his gaze to the top of his desk. "I imagine that when viewing the Headmaster's memories, you noticed they were quite detailed."

She nodded, knowing better than to say anything.

"I have never seen anyone with more meticulous recollections," he stated, re-taking his seat. "Most are much more disjointed and nowhere near as thorough. As with verbal fabrications, mental lies are more often exposed for containing too much information than not enough."

"That makes sense, I suppose," she muttered, crossing her arms.

Severus gave a nod of his head and linked his hands together. "For Monday, then, you will put together another attempt for me to view. I advise you to spend time considering how to prioritize the information you wish to convey."

Hermione gave a silent nod in agreement and then chewed on her lip in anxiety. "How many times did you have to go through the images of my parents?"

"Enough," he said in a gravelly voice, flicking his gaze away from her. He had replayed it so many times that he had lost count, and because of it, he still found it difficult to look her in the eyes when anyone mentioned her family. Even though they both now knew that the Grangers were still alive, a small part of him could not shake the feeling that what he had shown the Dark Lord had been true. Sometimes, during the night, he would awaken in a panic, fearful that he had actually killed them.

Clearing his throat, he shook away the dark thoughts that were beginning to surface. When he noticed that she was furiously avoiding his gaze and trying to hold back a question, he sighed and waved his hand. "I will not have an aneurysm on my conscience. Ask."

A faint blush tinged her cheeks as she let out a rush of air and brushed hair out of her face. "Well…I was just thinking… I mean, I know I can't see them, but I was wondering if perhaps… Could I write to them, maybe?"

Snape sucked in a nervous breath, and his gaze immediately locked onto the sapphire ring that had made a continuous appearance on her hand since he had told her the truth. He rubbed at his forehead before finally nodding. "I suppose that may be acceptable. When you wish, bring me your letter and I will see to it that they receive it."

At the smile that erupted across her face, he was half grateful for the desk that separated them. Had they both been standing, he did not doubt that she would have thrown her arms around him again and have attempted to squeeze the ever-loving life out of him.

As Hermione rose from her chair, she cleared her throat. When he glanced up at her, she grinned again and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just wanted to say, Professor, that if you wanted to use our connection…in a non-emergency situation… I would not be opposed."

"Miss Granger?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Well, I mean, it would be easier, wouldn't it?" she shrugged. "You've kind of had to go out of your way to communicate with me for meetings and such, when you could just talk in my head. I know you wouldn't abuse it, sir. I trust you."

With a duck of her head, she was gone, leaving Severus to stare after her in surprise.

** X**

Saturday brought with it not only the first Quidditch match, but also the first hints of winter. Tiny specks of snow were being battered about by the heavy November wind, and the grey sky showed no signs of clearing soon.

If that were not depressing enough, Severus currently found himself seated immediately between Minerva and Lupin. _Like some atrocious Slytherin-Gryffindor sandwich._

His only current comfort was the fact that Slytherin was ahead by fifty points. It seemed Weasley was panicking as his broom whipped about in the wind and was not fully focused on the location of the Quaffle. It was all much to the delight of the Slytherin student body – the lyrics to "Weasley is our King" were audible even above the roar of the weather.

"Pish!" Minerva hissed as Maria Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, blocked another shot by Ginny Weasley.

Snape allowed himself a smirk at the witch's frustration. Bletchley, a third-year, had yet to allow any points to the Gryffindor team. He was rather impressed by the girl's abilities. She was much more talented – and much more well-mannered – than her older brother, Miles, who had graduated two years before.

"Weasley, get your pathetic arse in the game!"

"I think, perhaps, you sacked him from the wrong position," he sneered as he watched another ten points be added to his House's score.

Her glare was intimidating even with her wearing tartan ear flaps. "Severus, if you know what's good for you, you'll shut that trap of yours."

"Is Longbottom busy?" he continued. "I daresay he could do your team no worse."

Though he was amused by the dark expression that crossed her face, he became less so when the man beside him cleared his throat.

"Speaking of Neville Longbottom," Remus stated quietly. "He's been doing exceptionally well in Defense this year."

Severus frowned as his eyes followed Malfoy and Potter streaking towards the nearly invisible Snitch. "I think you must have mistaken someone else for the boy."

Lupin chuckled and shook his head. "No, he really has improved. Thanks to Miss Granger's instruction."

The dark-haired man narrowed his eyes and unconsciously flicked his gaze towards the Gryffindor stands. His attention was immediately drawn to Lavender Brown, who was jumping up and down, cheering like mad and dressed in more scarlet and gold than was necessary.

"Finally!" Minerva sighed, as the Gryffindor Keeper managed to knock the Quaffle out of the way. She momentarily took her eyes off of the match to glance at the Defense instructor. "What were you saying about Miss Granger?"

"He's claiming that she's finally managed to pull Longbottom up to snuff," Snape muttered as he continued scanning the stands opposite the pitch from them. It had taken him a few seconds, but he eventually spotted Hermione sitting alone at the top of the stands.

"Not just up to snuff," Lupin corrected, "but surpassing expectations by leaps and bounds."

"Is that so?" McGonagall queried.

"It is," he nodded. "I was pleasantly surprised by the girl's marked improvement in nonverbal defense, but when she paired up with Neville and taught him, I was absolutely dumbfounded. I can't even begin to imagine how she has become so knowledgeable in the area. I think she might even rival Harry in Defense now."

"Perhaps she read it in one of her numerous books," Severus grumbled. _And Potter wouldn't stand a chance against her._

Remus shrugged at the possibility and turned his attention back to the Quidditch match. The Deputy Headmistress however, bore a knowing grin as she glanced at the man beside her. It was not until he glared at her that she shifted her attention away from him and cursed as a Bludger nearly knocked Ginny Weasley from her broom.

Snape let his scowl fade away as his eyes sought out the young Gryffindor witch again. He found it curious that she had separated herself from the others in her House. It was almost as though she were hiding, and her only show of team spirit was the scarlet and gold scarf that she had tucked beneath her jacket. If he had not have been looking so determinedly for her, he would never have noticed her.

He frowned slightly as he noticed the nervous expression on her face. If she was worried that anyone would blame her for a Gryffindor loss, she was clearly mistaken. He was not going to tell anyone what she had done, and he knew she was too intelligent to say anything on her own.

_If it wasn't that, then what? _Severus opted to keep an eye on her for several more minutes while he pondered the question. When he noticed her continuously glancing at the annoying blonde in the front row, he raised an eyebrow and shifted his own gaze towards Miss Brown. While before he had assumed her to be cheering for the team in general, he now recognized that she was focusing the majority of her attention towards the Gryffindor goal hoops.

_Huh._ He glanced back up at Granger and observed her concerned expression. It was obvious now that she was monitoring Miss Brown's attentions toward the Weasley boy. At first glance, it would look like jealousy, but based upon the fact she was doing whatever she could not to draw attention to herself, he had every suspicion that she was following his earlier advice.

With a brief glance back at the high-strung, blue-eyed witch, he snorted at the strange sympathy he suddenly felt for the gingerhead. _Miss Brown is as minor a distraction as is a car bomb being detonated in a quiet street._

"You don't need to be so smug about it," Minerva chastised, mistaking his snort as commentary on the match.

** X**

Hermione winced as the majority of the Common Room launched into another, louder round of "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." She cast Harry a sympathetic smile as he was again hoisted atop the shoulders of two of the rowdier seventh-year boys.

Though Slytherin had kept their lead for the rest of the match, Harry had finally managed to catch the Snitch, and had nearly broken Draco's arm in the process. The Slytherin fans had immediately broken out in boos and allegations of cheating. Malfoy, however, had only given a half-hearted sneer before vacating the pitch in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Hermione was surprised to see him disappear without even attempting to play-up his injury.

Sighing, she rubbed her shoulder and carefully picked her way through the crowded celebration. When she reached the edge of the room, she perched in one of the window seats and let her eyes sweep over the loud throng of Gryffindors. As her gaze fell upon a familiar tuft of red hair, she felt her breath catch in the back of her throat.

Ron was seated in one of the large armchairs near the fire, and around his neck were the arms of Lavender Brown.

Hermione bit her lip and tried to ignore the pain gnawing deep in her gut as she watched the blonde plant a series of kisses upon her friend's lips. She had tried to prepare herself for the eventuality of the situation, but was still surprised at how much it hurt. She had honestly never thought it would take so little effort…and so little time.

Lavender's reaction was not what had shocked her. Playing to the girl's catty sense of competition was almost too easy. All it had required was a rushed conversation in the girls' dormitory in which Hermione had pretended to ask her former roommate's advice on how to go about finally asking Ron out, and the rest had fallen into place on its own. The blonde had immediately begun bestowing her attention upon the redhead – sitting near them at meals, chatting him up during class, and almost laughably seeking him out for help on her homework at night in the Common Room.

What _had _left her in a state of disbelief, though, was how easily Ron had soaked up her affections. For all of his conversations with Harry and the obvious care he displayed for Hermione, it was quite the bruise to the ego to be so easily forgotten over a giggling, brainless tart.

_Perhaps that was a bit cruel_, she mused. Lavender was not really all that bad. She had easily pulled Ron out of his funk after his poor performance on the Quidditch pitch.

But Hermione could not help but feel an inner rage rising, directed at both her former roommate and her best friend. It was not really either of their faults, as she had been the one to push it into play, but it still made her feel bitter to watch them experience something that she would never have.

"He would rather it be you, you know."

The girl looked up, startled by the presence of the boy beside her. Harry had apparently wrenched himself away from the crowd of younger girls that had surrounded him, and had joined her on the window seat.

"What?" she asked.

Harry gestured with his head towards the pair canoodling by the fire. "If you would just go over there and talk to Ron, he'd much rather be snogging you right now."

"Oh." She attempted a laugh, but found it hurt too much. Instead, she shook her head.

"You know I'm right," he pressed.

"I know," she sighed, glancing briefly at the two of them. "But I just can't."

The dark-haired boy frowned, noticing the pained expression in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Hermione paused, struggling to find anything useful to say. "Ron and I… it just won't happen. It can't."

"Care to elaborate on that?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

The witch whimpered and shook her head. "Not really, no. It's… it's complicated. I'd rather not discuss it."

Harry sighed and then nodded slowly. "You know, if there's something wrong, Hermione – you _can_ talk to me. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to do."

"Oh, like last time, you mean?" she returned quickly, managing a small smile.

He grimaced and hung his head in shame. "I _am_ sorry about that. I swear it won't happen again. I really will do whatever you want, I swear it."

Hermione giggled softly, and squeezed his hand. "I believe you."

"Thanks," he muttered, his eyes following her as she rose from the bench. "Where are you going?"

"Bed, I think." She stretched and then wrapped her arms around her waist. "I just want to have some alone time."

"I understand _that_," he sighed.

She smiled at him and ducked her head. "Please don't mention any of this to –"

"I won't tell Ron anything."

"Thanks." The witch turned to leave, but paused briefly. "Oh, and if Professor McGonagall comes to break this up, tell her that I told everyone to go to bed an hour ago."

Harry laughed loudly and nodded. "I will."


	36. Girl Problems

**A/N: A bit of a wait, but I do believe I've earned your forgiveness with this chapter. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.  
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**As for what's been going on with FF, I want to make it clear that I will NOT be taking this story down unless instructed to do so. I will continue to post my chapters here for as long as I am able. As a back-up, I am currently loading the story onto yourfanfiction . com. It's a brand new site, and has so far been rather easy to use. I'll also put them up on my LiveJournal page, though some of the later chapters may have to be split into parts.  
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**Believe me - I will not blink first. I'm really good at the game of Chicken. Also, I got really pissed when after reading forty-some chapters of a really good story, I got to the last update, which was a note that the author was moving the story to a site that I can't access until January. Grr. I won't do that to you all unless I absolutely have to.  
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**Thank you all for your support and lovely reviews! hnwhitlock2000, jet911, woodshark, megsies, silverose29, The Sexy Muggle Librarian, DameBlaiddDrwg, Mrs HH, Zoek80, melonka, ButterflyGirl89, JenniferLupinBlack, ancim, anon, snapeophil, Small Owl, vampirela69, tori-victoria, xSiriusxstalkerx, Tilly, justy 13, Phoenixica24, MoonGirl1840, SweetieXoX27, BlooDsucKkerR69, The Casual Observer, Sev01, clio, AllyZ, Startled Boris, gravity01, emdramaqueen, Lucente, cinnamin, mairamout, ptite mac, DedicatedReader, Lover of Fantasy, severus49, KellyJoy, livebyinsanity, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, Petite Mule, Hazel08, Angelwells, angelhitomie, Coolnetta, Annie27766, KittyPimms, samagnus, missbrooked, Stacy Vorosco, tennis14321432, Eebaral Knight, lycaria, Mel, dr24do, alicehsbb, and Jinx452 are all super amazing!  
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* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 36  
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"Hermione, wake up."

"Mhhhhmm," came her muffled reply as she pressed her head farther into her pillow.

"I need to talk to you," Ginny hissed. "Now!"

"Mhhhhmm."

The redhead sighed and snatched her own pillow from her bed. She hesitated for a few seconds, and then raised her weapon and brought it down upon her friend's head. "I need your advice! It's about Ron –"

Hermione winced without opening her eyes, fearing another conversation like the one she had earlier with Harry.

"—and Dean."

The older girl groaned, but rolled over. "What?"

Ginny let out a loud breath and climbed into the bed next to her. "McGonagall made Dean the other sixth-year prefect. He just told me."

The brunette exhaled deeply and rubbed her eyes against the darkness of the night. "Ugh…fate hates me."

Ignoring her friend's mutterings, Ginny groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I need to know what to do – it's such a mess. I mean, Ron's gonna find out sooner or later. Sooner, actually, since they'll be switching beds tomorrow – er, later today."

"And you're expecting _me_ to tell him?" Hermione asked, raising a brow.

The younger girl shrugged. "Well… you know how to handle him."

Hermione snorted and turned over, pulling her pillow tight beneath her head. "Why don't you ask Lavender – she seems pretty knowledgeable in handling him."

Ginny lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Weren't you at the party?"

"Well, Dean and I ducked out early," she admitted. When she caught the other girl's glancing back at her with a pointed gaze, she blushed. "Not _that_! Just talking mostly… and some kissing. Now, what's this about Lavender?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She spent the majority of the evening on Ron's lap, doing the same thing you were doing with Dean."

The redhead's eyes bugged out of her head. "_Lavender_ and Ron? But what about _you _and Ron?"

"There isn't a _me and Ron_, Gin," she said, shaking her head.

"But I thought –"

"No."

Surprised by the finality in Hermione's tone, Ginny decided to let the matter drop. She sighed as she stared at the underside of the canopy. "Lavender, huh? I guess I could see it. It would also explain why she's been hanging around our Quidditch practices all term."

Hermione did not say anything, but the redhead could almost hear her thinking through something.

"Hey, maybe she'll distract Ron enough to keep him from killing Dean!" she stated cheerfully. "You think?"

The bushy-haired witch shrugged. "Well, if it were me, I'd consider using her as a distraction."

"Hmm," Ginny mumbled, thinking over the idea. "Well, it's worth a shot, no? I'll just have to make sure she's there when Ron finds out."

"Brilliant," Hermione muttered darkly as she pulled on her bed covers. "May I go back to sleep now?"

"Oh, sorry!" Ginny whispered, jumping up from the bed and crossing over to her own. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Gin," she replied, closing her eyes. After several minutes, she huffed in frustration. "What do you mean you could see it?"

A small giggle erupted from the bed next to hers. "You know, for there not being a 'you and Ron,' you're awful concerned about it."

Hermione scowled into the darkness. "I'm no more concerned about Ron and Lavender than I am about you and Dean."

"But you've never once confronted Dean or I about it," Ginny countered, leaning on her elbow.

"Well, that's because Ron gave the two of you enough confrontation for five people."

"Ah, true," the redhead nodded. "Though, you don't need to worry. If Lavender does anything untoward towards Ronniekins, I'll punch her myself."

** X**

Hermione widened her eyes in an unspoken question as Snape cancelled the Legilimency spell.

"Better," he answered thoughtfully.

"How much better was it?" she asked. As a response, he gestured to the pensieve already placed on his desk. Eagerly, she stepped forward and allowed him to extract the memories. When he had finished, she immediately touched her forehead to the swirling contents.

A minute later, she was expelled back into the office with a disappointed look on her face. The false memory had been less clear this time – almost as hazy as the real one, actually – but what had discouraged her was the fact that the fabrication had been much more disjointed than her previous attempt.

"Your thoughts?" he asked.

The girl sighed and collapsed into her chair. "It was so choppy. I don't know what I did wrong."

Snape shrugged as he put the pensieve away. "It is not as hopeless as you think."

"No?"

"No." He shook his head and took his seat. "Legilimency does not play out exactly like a cinema film, Granger."

She narrowed her brow. "But when he showed me –"

"That wasn't exactly Legilimency the Dark Lord was using on you," he sighed, interrupting him. "He was willingly pushing forth the memory, like you did when I extracted them for the pensieve. True Legilimency results in… pieces, or flashes, if you will, of memories. While you certainly want to improve upon the connectedness of your fabrication, it is not as bleak as you assume."

"Flashes?"

Severus nodded and linked his fingers in his lap. "Legilimency is a tricky area – which is why there are so few witches and wizards capable of doing it correctly. The more …_willing_ to undergo the intrusion the subject is, the easier it is to accomplish anything…and the more complete the images are."

"You hesitated on the word willing," she pointed out, crossing her arms. "Why?"

He blew out an uncomfortable breath. "Perhaps I should have said the more willing or unaware a subject is."

"So you can see more than _he_ can, because I let you?" When he nodded hesitantly, she frowned. "Doesn't that put us at a disadvantage? I mean, you're supposed to make sure I'm _willing_ to have _him_ in my head, so wouldn't that give it away?"

The wizard pushed on his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut briefly. "Well it might have posed a problem if he weren't a megalomaniacal sadist."

"What do you mean?"

"The Dark Lord…he…" Snape paused, as he contemplated how to delicately phrase his answer. After a second, he gave up the attempt. "He gets off on causing others pain –"

"Yes, I'm aware of the definition of the word 'sadist', Professor," Hermione interrupted, earning herself a glare from the Potions Master.

"Of course you are, Granger," he sneered. "Knowing you, you've likely used the dictionary as a bedtime story."

"Only when I've finished the telephone directory," she responded automatically. A blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes widened as she glanced at him in surprise. She had meant to respectfully ignore his sarcasm and not ignite his temper further, since she had already rudely interrupted him once.

To her surprise, though, the man snorted and was as close to a smile as she had ever seen him be. After recognizing that fact, she could not help but blush further and drop her gaze to her lap. "Though, I must admit I'm dreadfully behind on editions since coming to Hogwarts."

"Indeed," he smirked. Severus then leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "As I was saying, the Dark Lord does not do anything gently if he can do it while inflicting tremendous pain. The human body, however, has several self-preservation mechanisms built into it. Pain is a warning, and most people are wired to avoid it. When you touch a hot stove, you immediately yank your hand away. It requires no conscious thought."

"It's a reflex," she agreed.

He nodded before continuing. "The Dark Lord believes that the more pain an individual experiences, the more likely he or she is willing to do anything to end the pain. That may be true when trying to torture someone in order to verbally reveal a secret. However, loosening someone's tongue, as they say, and loosening someone's mind are completely different things.

"As a general rule, pain decreases willingness. If it hurts, you don't wish to do it anymore. If you're lying on the ground, utterly defenseless, and several people are kicking at you, what do you do?"

Hermione bit her lip and raised an eyebrow. "Curl up in ball and protect vital organs?"

"Exactly," he stated. "You had to think about it now, but if you were actually in that situation, you would have responded immediately. It's instinctual to protect yourself. The same is true with Legilimency, where someone else is entering your mind. If someone is beating at you through your mind, you will automatically do whatever you can to limit the contact."

"Like when I accidently threw you across the room?"

"Yes." He grimaced briefly at the image of being surrounded by broken glass, but pushed the memory aside. "That's why the first thing I had you do was learn how to control your emotions. If you had not disciplined your magic well enough before being summoned to the Dark Lord, it would have unconsciously tried to protect you as well.

"The Dark Lord, however, has never managed to realize this. He fails to grasp that the more agonizing you make the process, the less likely you are to see everything as the…participant will be unconsciously – or perhaps even consciously – fighting you."

"Huh," she grunted, thinking through it all. "I've never read about that in any of the books I've found on the subject."

"Of course you haven't."

Hermione glanced at him slyly. "It wouldn't be in any books at all, would it?"

Snape inhaled loudly and shook his head. "If it were, we would not be having this conversation. I would have been dead years ago, for the Dark Lord was just as avid a reader as you are."

"So you're the only one who's figured this out so far?"

"The likelihood that another Legilimens has spent any time studying Muggle science is slim, and Muggles are still highly mystified by 'mind-readers'," he responded thoughtfully. "Though, I have my suspicions that the Headmaster has come to similar conclusions."

"He isn't as gentle as you though," she said suddenly.

Severus raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Well, I mean…erm… when you were teaching me to notice the signs of intrusion, it took forever to notice it," she explained. "But after that, whenever Professor Dumbledore attempts it, it's like… well, almost like a… It's hard to describe, isn't it? Okay, say that when you do it, it's like someone lightly brushing against your arm, but when he tries it, it's like a full out poke. Does that make sense? I mean, he's just… less subtle about it than you are."

The wizard found himself highly entertained by her attempted explanation, and the corners of his mouth upturned into an amused smirk. "Well, one cannot forget the fact that, despite all of his scheming, the Headmaster is still very much a Gryffindor."

** X**

With the rest of her studies, training in a new prefect, and her personal defense lesson with Snape on Thursday night, the rest of the week flew by faster than Hermione ever thought possible. As she was busier this year than ever before, her assignments were being completed closer to the deadlines than they had ever been. It was because of this that she was constantly checking and re-checking her assignment journal.

"Harry, are you sure that the Defense essay isn't due until _next_ Friday?" she asked in a panicked tone as she flipped through the pages of her book. "And not today?"

"Pretty sure," he nodded, munching on a strip of bacon. "If it is due today, then we're all in trouble."

"We have a Defense essay?" Ron looked over in surprise, interrupting his Quidditch conversation with Lavender.

"Five inches of parchment on the different shielding spells," Hermione muttered as she finally found the right page. She then sighed in relief and let the book fall closed. "Due next Friday."

"Bloody hell," the redhead mumbled. "I forgot about that."

"Well, maybe you should write things down, Ronald," she suggested.

"In order to do that, though, he'd have to stop thinking about snogging his girlfriend," Harry interjected.

"And what's wrong about thinking about that?" Lavender cried, leaning her head against Ron's shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "What she said."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked away from the pair. When she felt Harry's gaze fix on her, she glared at him and shoved her plate towards the center of the table. Finding she was no longer hungry, she grabbed her journal and her book bag, and climbed off of the bench.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked.

"I'm just going to visit the loo before class," she answered. "I'll see you in a few minutes, or whenever they finish their… lovefest."

The dark-haired boy nodded and waved her away. She doubted that Ron had even noticed her departure, though, as he was completely wrapped up in the giggling and eyelash batting that Lavender was bestowing upon him.

As she pushed through the doors of the Great Hall and walked towards the staircases, she let out a deep breath. Tomorrow would mark the one week anniversary of Ron's relationship with the blonde, and she knew Lavender was already making a big deal about it. No doubt they would be snogging all over Gryffindor Tower that weekend, leaving Hermione to have to find somewhere to hide. It was one thing to have set them up, but it was an entirely different thing to have to watch them flaunt it in her face.

Hermione frowned as she stepped onto the staircase. It seemed stupid to celebrate after a week – _that_ was hardly any great accomplishment. Second years had relationships that lasted longer than that. Dung Beetles had relationships that lasted longer than that.

_But then again, who knows how many weeks anyone has left?_ Maybe Lavender was not as foolish as she thought. It had certainly surprised her to find out the girl had been watching Quidditch practices for the entire term, rather than just the one after Hermione had approached her. She had known that Lavender fancied Ron on some level, but never suspected that she had fancied him _that_ much. If that were true, the blonde had probably been motivated more by the fear of losing Ron than by the opportunity to compete with her former roommate.

_And if that is true, can I really hate her_? She bit her lip as she climbed the last flight of stairs. _Especially considering I pushed her in his direction on purpose?_

"No," she whispered glumly as she reached the hallway of the Defense classroom. With a sigh, she sat against the sill of a window and stared off into space.

Maybe Ron had never been that interested in her anyway. He seemed rather enamored by Lavender. Could it have been that he fancied her ex-roommate all along? As much as it depressed her, Hermione was beginning to see what Ginny had mentioned the other night. While Hermione had always bossed Ron into seeing things her way, Lavender cooed at him sweetly and convinced him that things would be alright. He had hardly even made a fuss when Ginny and Dean and told him about the replacement. She had seen the red creeping into his face and braced herself for a blow-out, but Lavender quickly grabbed hold of his hands and giggled that he would now be one floor closer to her.

And it had worked! He had practically melted into a puddle right before her. It was almost as if she had him under a spell, or a love potion, or something. But even if Lavender Brown were skilled enough to correctly brew a love potion, Hermione knew better. The only spell Ron was under was one of nature's own and oldest.

Sighing, she leaned back against the window frame. _If the world were to end tomorrow, Ron and Lavender would have had a week filled with giggling, Quidditch, and snogging. And what would I have? A conversation about Legilimency and a stupid joke about telephone directories?_

As lame as she found the statement to be, Hermione felt herself beginning to smile. She was probably one of only a handful of people to know that Severus Snape had a sense of humor… and an inordinate supply of patience. No one who had ever been his student would have believed either of those facts, and yet she knew them to be truth. He had dealt with her roller coaster of emotions and outbursts better than anyone could have imagined, and had been gentle and caring when the situation called for it. If she had not experienced it for herself, she never would have thought it possible.

As voices began drifting down the hallway, Hermione fiddled with the edges of her assignment journal. A compulsion to check her assignments for the day hit once again, and she cracked open the book to the correct date. She nodded as she read through her script, knowing that both the Herbology reading and the Arithmancy problem set had been completed already. She was just about to close the journal, when another thought suddenly hit her.

It was already the thirteenth of November. It had already been a fortnight since she had stood before Voldemort, which meant that it had been a fortnight since she and Snape had last had sex. The potion he had used before had extended the time in between from two weeks to three, but would it be the same since they had not used it? She still felt alright – better than she had all term, in fact – but how long would that last?

Chewing on her lip, Hermione flipped the page to the next week, realizing the need would probably arise during one of those days. At noticing a red dot next to Tuesday's heading, all color drained from her face.

_That can't be right_, she frowned. Quickly, she flipped through the weeks until she found another week marked with red dots.

The noise level of the hallway increased as students began lining up at the door, but the bushy-haired Gryffindor witch tuned them all out. Her focus was entirely on counting out the days since the last day she had marked in red. When the number 31 fell on the Monday of the following week, a knot began forming in her stomach.

Again she flipped back to the other week and furiously counted out the days, determined to find that she had miscounted somehow. Again she ended her count on Monday. Her shoulders slumped and she squeezed her eyes shut. There had always been thirty-one days in between her periods since they had first started, minus the one she had missed two months before.

"Hermione, are you coming?"

She looked up in surprise to see the hallway was empty and Harry was gesturing towards the open classroom door.

"Erm, yeah," she nodded, closing her book and hurriedly making her way after him. "Sorry, I was lost in thought."

"I noticed," he smirked. "Anything I can help with?"

The witch laughed nervously and shook her head. "Girl problems, Harry."

"Oh," he grimaced, his face turning beet red. "So…about Defense class, then…"

** X**

For once in her life, Hermione was glad that Harry and Ron had continued their enrollment in Divination class. Ron had taken off as fast as he could so he could meet up with Lavender beforehand, and Harry had flashed her a pained look before following after him. She was sympathetic to Harry's plight, but eternally grateful that she could escape to the dungeons without question.

She knew that Snape had a half hour break between his NEWT-level class and one of his fourth-year lectures. With any luck, he would still be in a good mood, having had only faced one round of dunderheads.

As she descended the last flight of stairs, she swallowed nervously and tried to quell the twisting of her stomach. She had briefly considered contacting him mentally, but ultimately decided that this was something she needed to do in person. If only her nerves were as concrete as her logic.

When she noticed that his office door was ajar, she froze mid-stride and briefly considered fleeing back up the stairs to safety. After letting out a shaky breath, however, she strengthened her resolve and pushed forward. With forced confidence, she knocked on the open door.

"Professor," she leaned against the doorjamb. "May I speak to you for a minute?"

Snape sat at his desk, organizing a stack of papers. Without looking up, he nodded and waved her forward.

Closing the door behind her, she tried to control the shaking of her hands as she stepped towards his desk. When he stood from his desk and held out his hand expectantly, she raised her brow in a question.

Taking note of her expression, the wizard cleared his throat. "I had assumed you had a letter you needed me to post."

"Oh!" Hermione's eyes widened and she placed one hand on her head and dropped her bag to the ground. "I completely forgot about that! I haven't written it yet."

He lifted his eyebrows, but nodded and dropped his hand back to his side. He then pulled a book from the shelf and began flipping through it. "What is it you need, Granger?"

Snapping her attention back to the present, she sighed and nervously chewed on her lip. "Well…you see, sir…it's been two weeks since we…erm, renewed the bond."

He stiffened slightly, but allowed her to continue.

"…And so far, we've had approximately three weeks in between," she blushed and fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve. "So that would put it sometime next week."

Severus let out a sigh and nodded.

"But…" She hesitated momentarily, digging up the courage to keep talking. "But, I was thinking we might want to take care of it before then. Otherwise, it could get rather messy."

The wizard narrowed his eyes in confusion and closed his book. "I don't follow."

"Oh, Merlin," she whispered, burying her face in her hands.

"Granger."

She sighed and slowly dropped her hands. "Look, next week is just _bad_."

"Bad?"

Hermione grimaced and stared imploringly at him. "_Think_ about it, sir."

"Think about _what_?" he said bewilderedly. "You haven't bloody given me anything to go on!"

"I'm a _girl_," she pointedly responded. _Figure it out so I don't have to say it!_

"Well, I've realized _that_ already," he grumbled. "What does _that_ have to do with the price of fish in London?"

The witch balled her hands up into fists and slammed her eyes shut.

"Granger, I don't have time for th –"

"It means that next week is my monthly!" she shouted as her eyes flew open. She held her breath as an awkward silence fell upon the room. Snape had all but frozen in place and his face had turned nearly as red as Harry's. Groaning quietly, Hermione wished for nothing more than to be suddenly swallowed up by the floor.

It took a few seconds for the Potions Master to recover, but when he did, he let out a slow breath and ran his free hand through his hair. "Yes, well, I guess that is a factor for consideration."

A soft snort was all she could manage as she attempted not to die of embarrassment. _Wouldn't that make for an unforgettable obituary? Rita Skeeter would give her left arm to write that one._

"I suppose we've been fortunate not to have run into it before now," he said quietly, fixing his eyes on the cover of his book.

"We probably would have if I hadn't been so wound-up," she shrugged, staring at the floor. "I completely missed last month's and thought for sure I was pregnant."

A loud thump and crunch of glass caused Hermione to glance up in surprise. The professor had gone deathly still and any hint of color had vanished completely from his face. His eyes were wide with shock and both hands were empty in mid-air. The book he had been holding had dropped to the desk, knocking over his inkwell and causing red ink to spill out across the top of his desk.

"Professor!" she cried. "The ink!"

Severus suddenly snapped out of his stupor and glanced down to see the growing mess. Hastily he grabbed a rag from behind him and started dabbing at the mess.

"It's going to ruin the essays," she hissed, rushing forward and pulling out her wand. "_Evanesco_!"

With a flourish of her wand, the expanding pool of red ink vanished, and she quickly set the inkwell upright to prevent further loss of ink. As she stepped back from the desk, though, she noticed that he was still staring at her in shock. His mouth was open as if he was going to say something, but when nothing came out, he slammed it shut.

Two seconds later, he finally managed a breathy two words. "_Are_ you?"

Her eyes narrowed in confusion for half a second before widening in realization. "Oh, no! No, I'm not! Oh, god – I shouldn't have said that. I wasn't preg – I'm _not_ pregnant."

"You're sure?" he asked. A hint of color was coming back to his features.

"Yes," she nodded vigorously. "Madame Pomfrey performed the test and it was definitely negative. She said it was just stress, and that everything would right itself when I started eating and sleeping better. That's why I came to you for the other sleeping potion."

Snape let out a large puff of air and ran his hands over his mouth before collapsing in his chair. His heart was beating erratically, and adrenaline was coursing through his system faster than he ever thought possible. He had spent nearly twenty years as a spy, had lost the love of his life, had grown up hiding from his father, and yet he had never felt more afraid than he had the second the word 'pregnant' reached his ears.

As the girl had assured him it was not the case, the panic had begun to recede from his thoughts, but it still took a moment for the rest of what she said to fully sink in and make sense.

_Madame Pomfrey performed the test._ He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You went to Poppy without telling me?"

Hermione shifted nervously on her feet. "Well, I was scared to tell you. I didn't want to say anything unless I had to… unless I knew for sure. When the results came back negative, I didn't want to bother you with it. Believe me, Professor, telling you about my … girl problems is something I never _ever_ wanted to do."

"And now Poppy knows you're sexually active," he muttered.

"She suspects it, at least," she answered. "I didn't tell her anything, though."

He stared at her incredulously. "You got her to perform a pregnancy charm _without_ telling her anything?"

"Not exactly. I sort of had an anxiety attack and blamed it on the fact that I didn't know whether anyone had given me a contraceptive after…after the first time."

Severus pinched his eyes shut. "You didn't think I would have –"

"That _isn't_ what I said!" she snapped. "I couldn't exactly tell her the truth, could I?"

He let out a measured breath and shook his head. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "In the future, Miss Granger, if you have… _those_ concerns… you will seek me out, immediately. Is that understood?"

"You know how to perform that spell?" she asked in surprise.

"No, but there _are_ other options. Muggle methods are nearly as reliable. It would not be difficult obtain a Muggle pregnancy test."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Not only was she discussing feminine matters with Professor Snape, but he was actually willing to find a Muggle chemist's shop and buy a pee-stick for her. She would surely be shipped off to St. Mungo's if she ever tried to tell anyone about it.

"You don't think it a valid option?" he asked, misconstruing the reason for her expression.

"What?" she asked, before figuring out what he had said. "Oh, no – it's certainly valid. It's just…just a little surreal to be having this conversation."

Snape raised his brow and nodded in agreement. As a thought formed in his mind, he narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Miss Granger, when did this happen?"

"Erm, well it was the day before I asked for the other sleeping draught," she answered, scrunching up her nose in thought. "The last day of September, I think."

As his expression became dejected, she tilted her head in confusion. "Professor, what's wrong?"

"Lupin," he muttered, covering his eyes with his hand.

"What about Professor Lupin?"

"He confronted me that day," he answered. "He knew that you had been… assaulted, and was angry that I had not discussed it in detail with the rest of the Order."

"What?" she paled and sank against the hard wooden chair. "How does he know?"

"He overheard you and Pomfrey."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "That's why he's been watching me, isn't it?"

"Watching you?"

"I-in class…and at meals." Hermione frowned. "It's like he's always concerned that I'm either going to blow up or fall apart. It's rather annoying, actually."

Severus was about to reply when a single chime sounded. Sighing, he glanced at the clock and stood from his chair. "I have class shortly, Miss Granger."

"Oh," she mumbled, pushing herself up from the chair and picking up her book bag. "Erm, about what I actually came here for?"

The wizard let out a deep breath and nodded. "You have rounds tonight?"

"Yes."

"I can meet you at the Room of Requirement afterwards."

She grimaced and shook her head. "Can we please not do it there?"

He looked at her in surprise but relented. "Alright. You may Disillusion yourself and come here."

"Thank you," she nodded in relief. She had just reached for the door handle when he called out.

"Granger?"

"Yes?" she responded, turning around to face him.

He shifted uncomfortably and sighed. "If you could, wear something else."

Hermione's face twisted in confusion. "What…erm, what am I supposed to wear then?"

He shook his head. "I don't care. Just not…_that_."

"Erm, alright," she said in an odd voice before slipping out into the hallway.

After she disappeared, Snape let out another long gust of air and wiped his hand over his face. His heart had finally returned to its normal pace, but his nerves were still on edge. How he was supposed to teach a bunch of squirming students after _that_ conversation, he did not know. He briefly entertained the notion of cancelling the rest of his classes for the day and spend the remaining hours buried in Minerva's liquor cabinet, but dismissed the idea eventually. He had already cancelled one Friday's set of lessons – he could not afford to do it again. Plus if Minerva were to question him on it, then _he_ would have to be the one to have feminine discussions with _her_.

_And Merlin knows there isn't enough liquor in all of Scotland for that._

** X**

"You seem awful twitchy tonight," Hermione remarked, eyeing her partner curiously.

Dean looked at her and shook his head. "Oh, it's nothing. I was just supposed to help Gin with her Charms homework tonight. I think she's worried about the OWLS already."

She narrowed her eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"What?"

The witch snorted and shook her head. "Have you _seen_ Gin's Bat Bogey Hex? There's no way she's having difficulty in Charms."

"Well, that's what she said," he argued. "She said we should work on our Charms together tonight."

_Are all men seriously this dense?_ She rolled her eyes. "I don't think she meant homework by that."

"What do you mean – Oh!" Realization dawned on his face, and Hermione could hardly keep from laughing. Dean suddenly glanced down at his watch. "You think we could speed this up any?"

"Dean."

Her serious tone caught the boy by surprise. "Huh?"

"You and Ginny haven't…"

He shook his head. "No, I swear we haven't. I don't think either of us are ready for that yet."

"Good," she stated. "Because if you hurt her, Ron is the least of your worries."

"What, I have to watch out for you, too?" he asked, raising his brow.

"I didn't mean me," she laughed. "You _have_ seen Gin's Bat Bogey Hex, right? Don't think that's the extent of her ability."

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Don't mention it," she muttered, gesturing towards the staircase. "Well, go on then."

"Go where?"

Hermione widened her eyes. "Don't you have _Charms_ _practice_ to get to?"

"But we haven't finished rounds yet."

"I'll be fine. You might as well take advantage of Ron being tied up with Lavender. As soon as that fizzles out, then you can bet he'll be right back in your face."

Dean nodded slowly. "You're probably right about that. I'll definitely pay you back for this, Hermione."

The witch waited until several minutes after he had disappeared from sight, and then spun quickly on her heel. It was a blessing in disguise that Ron had lost his position to the other boy. If Ron had been with her instead, she would never have been able to leave his side.

With a glance down each end of the hallway, she whispered the password to the Prefect's bathroom and slipped into the darkened room. As she stepped further in, the large room became bathed in soft lighting, and the stained glass mermaid smiled in greeting.

Hermione gave the jewel-toned figure a hesitant wave before turning towards the row of sinks. Turning on one of the faucets, she glanced half-heartedly in the mirror before splashing a handful of cold water over her face.

"You can do this, Hermione," she stated forcefully, gripping the edges of the sink. She blew out a heavy breath and nodded. As she straightened to her full height, her fingers quickly worked to unfasten her school robes. As she slipped them from her shoulders, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Instead of the usual blouse and skirt she wore as part of the school uniform, she had switched into a white sweater and a pair of jeans. She was not sure that that was what she was supposed to wear or why she was even required to change, but the man had not been very forthcoming on how he wanted her to dress.

_Stop thinking about it_, she told herself. _You're only making it harder._

Closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath, she stepped away from the mirrors. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed the mermaid was staring at her with a curious expression on her face.

"I can do this, right?" she asked of the window.

A soft smile came over the figure's face and she flipped her tail playfully.

Taking that as a good sign, Hermione moved towards the door. She held her school robes in one hand and her wand in the other. Quickly, she Disillusioned herself and made her way down to the dungeons. When she reached Snape's office, she paused for a moment to collect herself.

Breathing in deeply, she knocked on the door. Two seconds later, it was pulled open and Snape waited until he saw the slight shimmer of her form step into the office before he shut the door.

The girl removed the concealing charm and turned to look at him. He had already taken off his teaching robes and his frock coat, and was currently only wearing a white button-up and black trousers. Glancing back at her own clothing, she blushed. "Is this alright?"

"What?" he asked. When he figured out she was referring to her outfit, he gave an uncomfortable nod. "_Oh_. Yes, it's fine."

She let out a breath that she was not aware she had been holding and watched as he crossed behind his desk. Her eyes widened as the sudden appearance of a door in the brick wall. As the door swung open, she did as he instructed and moved to follow him. As they quietly moved up the narrow stone staircase, Hermione found it strange that in all the times she had faced that wall, she had never known there was a secret passage behind it.

Upon reaching a small landing, she watched in awe as another door appeared at the sound of the Potion Master's voice. He turned the brass knob and held open the door for her. Hermione stepped across the threshold and looked around in surprise at his bedroom.

"So _that's_ where that door goes," she mumbled quietly as she set her wand and robe on top of a bookshelf.

"One of the great mysteries solved," he muttered in reply, pulling open the drawer of his bedside table. He quickly snatched a slender vial from it, shut the drawer, and held it out to her.

The girl cautiously took the flask and stared at the salmon-colored contents for a long moment. With a deep breath, she pulled out the stopper and tossed back the contents. After setting the empty container on the bookshelf, she looked over towards the bed to see that Snape had sat down and was in the process of removing his dragon-hide boots. Rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, she quietly crossed over to the bed and gingerly perched next to him. She kicked off her flats and stared at her bare feet for a few seconds before raising her gaze to the dark expanse of the window.

For the first time in a week, the sky was clear of clouds, leaving the stars perfectly visible. Hermione gave half a smile as she took in the sight of the Black Lake moving gently beneath the waning gibbous moon. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed that the Potions Master was absently staring at the same sight as she was. As she shifted her focus again to the window, she sighed and began nibbling on her bottom lip.

The silence in the room was strangely both comforting and unsettling. There were no real pressing time constraints on the engagement – none that mattered to her, at any rate. She was not in any risk of pain or suffering, which meant that he did not find himself forced into action. Unfortunately, though, it left them both in the uncomfortable position of figuring out where and how to start.

When, after several minutes, he made no advances towards her, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and blew out a deep breath. She was growing weary of the awkward feeling that was beginning to build between them, and decided that she was just as capable of starting things as he was.

Pulling her legs beneath her, she knelt on the mattress and turned to face him. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch the side of his face. When he glanced at her in mild surprise, she drew her hand back slightly.

"Erm," she whispered, holding her hand frozen in mid-air. "May I?"

Snape widened his eyes, astonished by her request. When he nodded, he noticed the rigid uncertainty in her features soften into something resembling curiosity. He sat perfectly still as she moved the hair from his face and tucked it behind his ear. Her eyes were held in a determined gaze as her fingertips delicately traced the line of his jaw.

As she explored the contours of his face, Hermione mentally called forth everything that he had done for her in the past few months. The images of Voldemort and the binding ceremony – the images that came to mind before every renewal they had completed – were chased away by the memories of him tending to her wounds, of him holding her while she cried, of her learning that he had saved her parents, and of his pained expression after any of the times that he had been forced to hurt her. When the nightmarish images had all but vanished, and her mind was filled only with gratitude and loyalty towards the man in front of her, she gently touched her finger to his lips.

His eyelids, which had slowly fluttered closed during her ministrations, suddenly flashed open, and his darkened gaze immediately sought out hers. His chest was rising and falling quickly with anticipation as her gaze flicked between his eyes and his mouth. Slowly, she leaned towards him, tentatively pressing her lips against his.

Severus let out a soft moan, moving his hand from mattress to the side of her cheek as he kissed her in return. As his head was in an awkward angle, he used his other hand to pull her onto his lap. The young witch broke the liplock at the change in position and blushed furiously as she realized she was now straddling her professor. The awkwardness was soon forgotten, however, when he softly stroked her cheek with his thumb and softly caught her lips with his.

A heat flared through her body as she melted against him, allowing both of her hands to rest atop his shoulders. As the kiss deepened, the hand on her cheek slid behind her head and the one on her knee moved to her waist. She felt his mouth open against hers and so she followed suit. A guttural noise escaped her as his tongue slipped into her mouth and began dueling with her own.

Snape dropped both hands to her hips and slowly began pushing up the soft fabric of her jumper. She unconsciously jerked at the feeling of his fingers on her heated flesh, and he groaned deeply at her sudden contact with the bulge in his trousers. A small sense of disappointment washed over her when he suddenly pulled away from the kiss to focus completely on removing her sweater. When the garment was pulled over her head and successfully tossed away, though, she was overcome with the desire to feel his flesh against hers.

Hermione quickly turned her attention to his shirt, frowning slightly as her fingers fumbled with the small buttons. Larger fingers soon overtook hers and finished the task much faster than she would have been able to manage. When the article of clothing was finally cast aside, she smoothed her hands over the pale skin of his torso.

It was the first time in which she would see him completely naked, a fact that had escaped neither of their notices. Three months had passed since the girl's privacy had been all but forfeited to him. Her bare body had been given to him; her mind had been laid open before him; and her innocence had been sacrificed upon an altar so that he may live to die another day. It was for this reason that he had so swiftly forgiven her for piecing together his love for Lily. After all, what was her intrusion on his past when compared to his incursion on the entirety of her future?

And it was for those reasons that he tramped down all the urges to pull away from the girl when her fingers traced over the scars on his chest. Scars from his father, scars from his run-ins with the Marauders, scars from his service to the Dark Lord and to Dumbledore – every imperfection he wished to keep hidden from the world were now exposed to her. His self-consciousness and desire for introversion were kept in check by the knowledge that it was only fair turnabout.

Eventually, however, the logical head of his ceased its hold on the reins, and biology took over as his hands reached for the clasp of her bra. As it too disappeared to the floor, his hands replaced the fabric's presence upon her breasts, and delicious whimpers tumbled forth from her mouth as he flicked his thumbs over her nipples.

Desperately trying to keep some control in her own head, Hermione dug her nails into the flesh of his chest. The heat that had begun with their kissing had multiplied exponentially until her body was a raging inferno. Feeling as though she were going to explode at any moment, she arched away from him, only to have him follow her. When his lips attached to the soft skin of her neck, it provided the very spark she feared would lead to her undoing.

As she cried out in release, Severus became painfully aware of his own need for relief. A moment of clarity surfaced long enough for him to realize that it would all be for naught if he were to allow this to end before even reaching the act itself. While the girl in his lap slowly tumbled back into reality, he stood long enough to turn down the bed covers before carefully placing her in the center of his bed. Gently he unfastened and pulled off her jeans and then quickly removed his own trousers and pants.

Climbing into the bed beside her, he waited until Hermione found him with her glossy eyes before he made any attempt to remove her soaked knickers. He knew then that she was at least partially aware of the situation; a fact further confirmed when she lifted her hips to aid in their removal. When he had successfully slipped them from her toes, he pulled the covers over them and turned his gaze back to her face.

"Hermione," he whispered, catching her attention. "I need to know if you're ready."

The young witch swallowed a gulp of air, but nodded emphatically. Recognizing the awareness in her eyes, he gracefully shifted atop her frame. Cautiously he entered her and was immediately rewarded with a throaty groan as her hands sought purchase on his back. As he began moving slowly within her, she whimpered and erratically thrust her hips towards him.

Pleasantly surprised by her attempted involvement, he chuckled and paused in his strokes. He pressed his lips to her temple and spoke in a soft pant. "Wrap your legs about my waist."

As she followed the direction, it deepened their connection, eliciting matching groans from the pair. Feeling his control beginning to give way, he quickly breathed in her ear. "Move when I move."

The girl nodded and, as he resumed his motions, she began pushing back in response. After a few miscalculated thrusts, she finally managed to find his rhythm and it was not long before they were both sent soaring over the edge.

Hermione gasped for air as the wizard rolled away from her. There was no denying she was hot and tired and sweaty, but she felt better – happier, even—than she had her entire life. The pleasure that she had experienced after their last encounter paled in comparison to what she was experiencing in the present moment. As she continued struggling to breathe, she stared at the dark ceiling in silence, contemplating her new definition of the word 'sated' and doubting very much in her ability to verbalize any sort of sentiment.

After several minutes, she wiped a hand through her hair and blew out a deep breath. When she felt the bed shift, she lazily turned her head to glance at the man beside her. He was sitting with his back to the headboard and with the sheets pulled up to his waist. Her eyebrows narrowed in surprise, however, at the pained look that adorned his face.

"Professor?" she asked, pushing herself into a seated position and clasping the edge of the sheets to her chest. "Are you alright?"

At the sound of her voice, his eyes slammed shut and his expression morphed into one of utter disgust. Her cheeks flushed in shame and she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. He was disappointed with her – she had tried to do as he had instructed, but apparently it had not been enough.

"I'm sorry," she breathed mournfully, slipping from the bed to snatch up her discarded clothing. "I've just never done this before…"

Severus's eyes flashed open and he looked at her in confusion. Realization dawned quickly upon him, and he felt as though he had been kicked in the gut at the sight of a tear dripping down her cheek. Leaning across the bed, he grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged her back into the bed.

"Hermione," he pleaded, shaking his head, "It's not _that_…I have no complaints about...about _that_."

She pulled her arm away from him and, feeling suddenly exposed, yanked the covers over the front of her body. "Then what _is_ it?"

Snape exhaled deeply and bore an uncomfortable expression on his face. Noticing the rest of the tears threatening to leak from her eyes, he grimaced at the knowledge that he should have kept tighter control of his emotions. He had been angry with himself as he remembered how he had spoken to her during their union. He had told her what to do, leaving her with no option but to obey. And then when she had asked after him and referred to him by his professional title, the realization that he had just fully enjoyed bedding a student settled deep within his conscience, leaving him utterly sickened with himself.

But she had mistaken his self-loathing for criticism of her performance. As much as he wished to avoid telling her the truth, he knew that it was something he had to do. His conversation with Minerva kept replaying in his head along with the promise of honesty he had made to the girl.

Sighing, he met her expectant gaze. "I did not mean to force you to do anything that you did not wish to do."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock and she shook her head. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything tonight that I didn't want to do. You didn't _make_ me do anything. I was the one who came to you, and I…started it."

He gave a relieved breath and covered his face with his hands.

She drew the covers tighter against her chest. "Is there something else wrong?"

The man nodded slowly and paused for a long moment, attempting to find the words. "This is… This is difficult for me. You are… You are still my student, and it is difficult for me to not see you as such. Sleeping with students is something to which I am vehemently opposed. I did not even sleep with students when _I_ was a student."

"Oh," she responded softly. She wiped at her eyes and pulled her knees to her chest, feeling foolish for not considering that possibility. "Is that why you asked me to wear something else?"

He sighed and nodded.

"I suppose it doesn't help if I keep calling you 'Professor', either," she stated a few seconds later.

Snape snorted and shook his head. "No. It doesn't."

Hermione blew out a deep breath and pursed her lips in thought. "I could drop Potions if –"

"No," he snapped quickly.

"But if it makes it easier –"

"_No_," he repeated with emphasis. "You will not sacrifice your studies. I doubt it would make a damn bit of difference even if you did. I still have five years' worth of incessant arm-waving fully stocked in my head."

The witch fought a smirk as she turned her eyes towards him. "If you're just worried that you'll get stuck with Harry alone, I can guarantee you that he'll drop the class the moment he finds out that I did."

He fixed her with a dangerous glare that caused her to blush and drop her gaze to the bed covers. With a shuddering sigh, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head atop her knees. "It's probably not what you want to hear, but I think I'd rather pretend that I'm having an illicit affair with my Potions professor than accept the reality of the situation."

Severus winced and found his gaze drawn to her lower back. The injury had long since turned to scar, but the edges of his name were still clearly visible from where he sat. Likely the scar would remain for the rest of her life. Grimacing, he tore his eyes away from her body and stared at the wall.

"I thought it made you feel cheap," he muttered after a few seconds had passed.

Hermione gave half a grin and shook her head against her knees. "Only when you were fixing my marks. If I were sleeping with you for the grades, then that would make me feel cheap. If I were simply sleeping with you to sleep with you, then it would feel…erm, I don't know… exciting, maybe."

The wizard raised his eyebrow and glanced at her incredulously. "Exciting?"

"Well, it would be," she murmured as her face flushed red. "It's forbidden and sneaky and risqué and…"

"_Exciting_," he repeated in disbelief. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Granger, please don't tell me you've been harboring secret fantasies about teacher-student relationships."

The girl let out a bark of laughter and shook her head. "Oh god, no! I only mentioned it hypothetically because that's technically what we're in, isn't it?"

Snape snorted and leaned his head against the headboard. "Minerva told me to think of it as an arranged marriage."

The young witch wrinkled her nose. "That's rather horrid."

"My thoughts exactly," he answered. When the sound of chimes drifted in from the sitting room, he sighed. "It's getting late. You should return to your dormitory before anyone notices that you're missing and runs screaming to the Headmaster."

Hermione gave a tight smile and nodded. Slipping cautiously from the bed, she quickly grabbed at her clothes and covered herself as best she could. The wizard turned his body towards the wall to give her some measure of privacy as she crossed the distance to the bathroom. When he heard the door latch closed, he wordlessly summoned his own clothing. After dressing, he sauntered into the sitting room and collapsed into his armchair.

"Do you want me to leave from here or from your office?" she asked, stepping into the room as she pulled her school robes overtop her Muggle attire.

Severus glanced towards the clock on his mantle and let out a slow breath. "Filch is likely patrolling the dungeons at this time of night, and I highly doubt Minerva would take points if she caught you in her corridor."

"_Her_ corridor?" she asked curiously. "Isn't it _your _corridor as well?"

He responded with a grunt. "Good night, Granger."

Rolling her eyes, the girl moved towards the door. "Good night, Prof—erm, Good night."

** X**

Remus Lupin blew out an exasperated breath as he stared out one of the windows on the sixth floor. His scheduled patrol had ended nearly an hour before, but the man had found no desire to return to his quarters just yet. He had been feeling restless for several days and had only managed a few hours of sleep each night. It was a side effect of the Wolfsbane potion he knew. The stress of the transformation would leave him exhausted for a few days, and the next three or four days would find him feeling jittery and anxious. He had once jokingly accused Snape of spiking the brew with caffeine, only to have the Slytherin glare at him and shove an old, musty potions manual under his nose. There, written in the calligraphic script of old, was list of ingredients, which included the requirement for 'seven Afrikan kola nuts of middle size'.

Remus chuckled under his breath as he remembered the man's response.

_"Of course it contains caffeine, you dimmock! Though if you think yourself suddenly wise in the art of potion brewing, I would gladly remove it from your next batch. It might be interesting to witness the result of your transformation without anything to stimulate your brain function or suppress your appetite. Then again, perhaps not. In the event that any student deaths occur, they could surely be chalked up to research this time instead of to your simple, yet staggering supply of stupidity!"_

With a soft sigh, the man shook his head and turned away from the window. If he could not sleep, he might as well make use of the time by getting a head start on his marking. He reached the staircase with the intent of returning to his second-floor office. When he rounded the corner of the first half-story, he gave a surprised grunt as he collided with an invisible entity.

A female cry was heard as he fell back against the steps, and he instinctively reached out to grab the other person before she tumbled down the stairs. The slight shimmer around her form was a tell-tale sign of the Disillusionment charm and he slipped out his wand to remove it.

As the concealment melted away to reveal that he was currently holding Hermione Granger around the waist, his eyes widened in shock. He immediately released his grasp on her and stood.

"Hermione? What are you doing out past curfew?"

The girl grimaced slightly as she met his gaze. "I got side-tracked while on rounds, and was just rushing to finish them."

He lifted his eyebrow in skepticism. "While Disillusioned?"

"Well, there are a few reasons for that actually," she responded, shifting on her feet. "First off, it never hurts to practice, and it gives me the benefit of surprise if someone is out of line. If I'm quiet, they don't see me coming until it's too late. Plus…"

She paused for a moment, and let her gaze drift towards her feet. "Plus, it makes me feel safer."

Lupin closed his eyes in pained understanding and nodded his head. Blowing out a small breath, he gestured up the stairs. "Alright, well, I just walked the upper floors, so you might as well head back to the tower now."

"Okay," she nodded.

He offered her a lopsided smile. "Though, you should count yourself lucky that tonight was my night to patrol. Professor Snape may not have been so forgiving."

A strange expression flashed across her face before she smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Professor. Good night."

"Good night," he responded. As she sprinted past him up the stairs, however, a strong rush of scent washed over him. Narrowing his eyebrows, he lightly sniffed at the air and then flashed his eyes to where she had disappeared. His eyes widened in recognition of the smell and his gaze snapped in the direction from which she had suddenly appeared. He then frowned and determinedly stomped down the steps to the fifth floor to take up another set of rounds.

The pile of unmarked essays sitting on his desk were completely forgotten the moment he realized that Hermione Granger reeked of sex.


	37. A Whiff of Trouble

**A/N: Thank you so much for your patience! I'm so sorry it took so long, but life has been busy! Even now, I'm sitting in a hotel room, escaping the 91 degree + humidity after a long day of listening to science education talks. My lab presented our project at the national conference, and got really exciting feedback from the audience. So Yay!**

**It's been an entire year since I started this story! Can you believe it? I can't!  
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**Thanks for the reviews: JenniferLupinBlack, Forgotten Silver Angel, ancim, angelhitomie, snapecat, HPFanGirl01, mairamout, La muta larmo, simplyy gabrielle, JeniDRalph, Stacy Vorosco, woodshark, KellyJoy, Angelwells, ButterflyGirl89, xSiriusxstalkerx, barbmeg, The Casual Observer, snapefan520, lyingtonguesareclumsy, mightymouse1900, Aubrey'Snape, DedicatedReader, InezSophia, Toolazyforloggingin, Moosie Mayhem, Lucente, THESE VOICES WONT SHUT UP, Mortania Hottersander, SweetieXoX27, hnwhitlock2000, Slinkiee, Sasamii, vampirela69, Sev01, randc9394, Madeline Cullen, LK-HoGwArTs-hEaDgIrL, Startled Boris, BlooDsucKkerR69, snapeophil, TakumaAngel, AllyZ, Golfbabe87, Mel, angellicious02, Li-Li-ThePinkBookgirl, clio, anniekun93, justy13, Eebaral Knight, sparkfirereader, tennis14321432, ambercrombie541, just passing through, Veggemite, alicehsbb, Lyra Lupin, silverose29, callalily32, MCannon5887, Lover of Fantasy, LittlebigmouthOKC, Masqued, Lust for Life, KittyPimms, melonka, laziza, Tilly, Advanced Smut Making, Petite Mule, BoyyM, StarsRFire, lloralalluvia, whenthesnowmelts, IHeartBranson, Nickan, Hajnalmadar, Annie27766, roon0, severus49, fjums, Lonely Road, Odile1001, emdramaqueen, Lil sim, 2carm2carm2, ptite mac, TheJollySequin, Regina Austen, spottie7182, and the Guest reviewers!**

**If I haven't responded to your review yet, I'm sorry! I will, I promise. It's just been hectic, and I figured a new update would be more appreciated than a review response!**

**And I'm really not fond of the fact that FF has seen fit to sabotage my scene dividers.  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 37  
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The staff meeting was passing by as slowly as it ever did, but with fewer interruptions than any other that year. This was due in part to the fact that the week had been relatively quiet on the student front, but also due to the distraction of a number of the staff. While Pomona Sprout had nodded off halfway through – as she so often did – the two youngest instructors were currently too lost in their thoughts to pay much attention to the mundane assembly.

Severus had sat stewing over the happenings of the past day involving himself and Miss Granger. The more he had thought about it, the more surprising her degree of involvement during their encounter seemed to be. At the time, he had been too caught up in the act to do anything more than enjoy it, but after she had left his quarters, he had found it nearly impossible to _not_ think about it. Up until her summoning, she had found the physical requirements of their bond as detestable as he had. He knew full well how long she would scrub in the shower afterwards before crying herself to sleep, and the memories of that still haunted his thoughts.

Even after facing the Dark Lord, she had approached their union with extreme trepidation, and he had chalked up her reaction afterwards to trauma. He had thought that she had asked him to stay solely out of the fear of being left alone, but their subsequent interactions had begun to change his opinion somewhat. He could remember Dumbledore's words months before.

_'She wants to trust you. Let her.'_

Apparently, it seemed he had managed to do just that, because all evidence pointed to the idea that she trusted him. It made sense then as to why she had pleaded with him not to say that he had killed her parents. That was the reason why betrayal had begun to burn in her gaze before he could extinguish it with the truth. She had already trusted him at that point, and she had clung to it desperately. Was that trust what was getting her through everything?

He had begun to realize in the past week just how much she had come to depend on him. Hermione had taken the meager amount of support he was able to give her in front of Voldemort and had thrived upon it. Despite everything he had done to her, she had never failed to listen to his instruction during their private lessons, and it seemed she had come to enjoy them recently. Even when it was not required, she had taken it upon herself to seek him out – stopping by his office or breaking into his quarters just to sleep. Not to mention, she had officially given him permission to use their connection and had verbalized her trust in him with it.

_But is that enough to explain her reaction last night?_ It did not quite make sense. He had brutally raped her months before, and yet not only had she come to him willingly, but she had also initiated the first kiss, had eagerly responded to the act, and had even worried that he had been disappointed with her. There was no physical attraction on her part – _ how could there be?_ – and she had denied having any preconceived notions about teacher-student relationships. Unless she had already begun to pretend they were having an illicit affair, but that was something he highly doubted.

_She could have been Occluding_, he supposed suddenly. He had taught her how to focus only on certain emotions, and block out all others. She had an uncanny ability to do it, too. Perhaps that was what she had done – had focused only on the trust she had in him and cut out everything else.

Snape blew out a slow breath as he considered it, and flicked his eyes briefly towards the Deputy Headmistress. Regardless of what had transpired in Hermione's head, he knew that Minerva had been correct all along. _Of course, if I actually tell her that, she'll turn into a smug cow as per usual._

And so as he contemplated – for the first time in his tenure – what would constitute a nice Christmas gift for the elder witch, he was too absorbed to notice that the man seated beside him had yet to add any comment to the conversation around them.

As it was, Remus's thoughts currently revolved around the same young woman. The smell of arousal and secretions had been unmistakable as she had run past him on the staircase. However, after an extensive extra set of rounds, he had been unable to find her partner. He had even then returned to stand sentry just out of sight of the Fat Lady's Portrait. No one – Disillusioned or otherwise – had returned to the Gryffindor common room the entire time he had been there. It was possible that he had missed a wayward Gryffindor sneaking back in while he was scouring the other floors, of course.

_But then who was to say it had to have been a Gryffindor boy?_ Hermione had been rushing up the stairs from the fifth floor when they had collided. She could have rendezvoused with anyone from the other three Houses on any floor in any wing in the castle.

Lupin frowned slightly as he thought about it. He would have assumed that any of her romantic interests would have involved Ronald Weasley, but the boy was so obviously wound around Miss Brown now that it could not have been him. Not likely, at any rate – the Weasleys were a rather honorable sort.

_Though, even if it were not Ron, it could still be about him_. Hermione had appeared uncomfortable around the new couple, so perhaps she was jealous and acting out in retaliation. It was a rather stupid thing to do, but even intelligent girls had done it before.

The werewolf crossed his arms and risked a glance towards Snape, worried that perhaps the other wizard would know about what he was thinking. The dark-haired man was intently staring at the table, undoubtedly frustrated by the current topic of discussion which seemed to be regarding Christmas decorations. With a small sigh, he thanked Merlin that no one knew he was currently dissecting the sex life of a student.

It was not – as Severus had implied – that he was letching after the girl, but only that he was concerned for her. If it had been anyone else, or even if he had not overheard her conversation with Madam Pomfrey, he would not have bothered. He could not exactly hand out detentions based solely upon scent, and so, in any other situation, he would have simply tossed the offender a disappointed look or two in class and then let it rest. But this was Hermione Granger – the girl who was the best friend of his best friend's son. He had not exaggerated when he had told Snape that she reminded him of himself. In fact, Remus was almost entirely sure that if he were to have a daughter, she would greatly resemble Hermione.

For these reasons, he found himself inexplicably protective of her. When he had heard that she had been assaulted, every fiber of his being had been enraged. He had seen red and barely recognized that he had been so violent with Severus until he felt the tip of a wand digging into his throat. His trust in the spy had been shaken greatly upon his refusal to name the assailant, and it was not until after a rather heated discussion with Dumbledore that he had finally calmed to a point where logic could regain its hold upon his head.

Of course it made sense that Hermione would not want everyone to know what had happened, but it had seemed ridiculous for Snape and Dumbledore to be the only ones to know the truth. Albus meant well and was compassionate enough, but he was busy with Voldemort and the Order and could not possibly have the time to give her the support she needed. And with Severus, the latter part was undoubtedly true, though the same could not be said about the former. He was insensitive and cold on the best of days, which as Remus knew, was partly their fault. It was because of that fact that he had been so surprised by Snape's underwater rescue of the girl. The students he had overheard in the Great Hall had said that the Potions Master had virtually appeared from nowhere and had dived into the lake without hesitation before anyone even realized he was outside of the castle. And when he had passed the hourglasses, Remus had been flabbergasted to witness just how many points Slytherin had lost. Since then, he had realized that perhaps Snape really was looking out for the girl, even if no one understood subtlety enough to recognize it. Though, with the precariousness of Severus's position, it was probably best that way.

Blowing out a slow breath, he briefly moved his gaze towards Minerva. He had wondered for weeks now if she, too, knew the truth about what had happened to Hermione. She had volunteered to speak with the girl, and Hermione's academic performance had improved afterwards. Perhaps the girl had taken her Head of House into her confidence and had shared her painful secret. Though, if McGonagall did know, he wondered if she knew about the pregnancy scare or Hermione's subsequent behavior.

By the time Dumbledore announced the adjournment of the meeting, Remus had come to the uncomfortable conclusion that he could not keep his suspicions to himself. As the rest of the staff began filing out of the room, he looked up to see Minerva and Severus conversing about a Slytherin student's detention. Gathering his wits, he made his way to them and cleared his throat.

Had he been in a lighter mood, he would have chuckled at the matching raised eyebrows he received from the pair.

"I wondered if I might have a word with you both."

"I suppose that would depend upon the word," Minerva said with a tight smirk.

Remus nodded and folded his arms. "It's about Miss Granger."

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"What about Miss Granger?" McGonagall queried, ignoring the antics of her fellow Head of House.

He sighed softly and frowned at the floor. "I think perhaps, she may be acting out."

"Acting out?" she repeated.

Snape arched his eyebrow. "Is she not playing nicely with the other kiddies? Throwing tantrums in class? Did she piss in your chair perhaps?"

"Severus," Minerva admonished before turning back to the werewolf. "Well?"

"I meant she may be acting out _sexually_," he clarified.

The Head Witch's eyes widened while a dark look overtook Snape's countenance. With a quick flourish of his wand, the doors to the staffroom slammed shut and a _Muffliato_ descended upon them.

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" he hissed.

Remus narrowed his eyes and gestured towards McGonagall. "Does she know the truth? Or did you neglect to mention it to her as well?"

Minerva crossed her arms pointedly. "Believe me, Remus, as her Head of House and as deputy head of the Order, I know quite a bit more about Miss Granger than you do. Now, explain yourself."

With a deep breath, he gave a shortened version of what had transpired in the stairwell the night before. When he had finished, he was not the least bit surprised to see an accusatory glare on Snape's face.

"You're _sniffing_ students now? Surely _that_ has to be breaking at least one of the by-laws!"

"Severus, calm down."

"Calm down?" he shouted, turning to the witch beside him. "I'm not the one snuffling student's backsides as they pass me in the hallway!"

"As disturbing as that image is, Severus, I'm sure that's not what he meant."

"No, it isn't," Remus agreed. "I wasn't smelling her on purpose – it just happened that I…caught a whiff."

"Oh, you caught a whiff," Snape grumbled. "And then you just happened to search the rest of the castle hoping to catch another _whiff_."

The Defense instructor frowned. "If you're implying again that I acted out of jealousy, you are highly out of line."

"_I'm_ not the one sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."

Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose as she grabbed hold of Snape's sleeve and pushed him towards the table. "Severus, if you cannot behave like an adult, then sit down."

With a grunt, the taller man flopped into a chair like a petulant child. While the woman spun back around, he folded his arms crossly and glowered over her shoulder.

"He believes that I'm –"

"Oh, I can just about imagine what he has said," McGonagall smirked, interrupting Remus. "But let's ignore that, shall we?"

"I only mention it because I'm concerned for her well-being," he responded. "It's well-established that rape victims may voluntarily seek out sexual situations in an attempt to take back some of the control in their lives."

"And you think Miss Granger is exhibiting this promiscuity?" she asked, holding her hand up to shush the man seated behind her.

Severus, however, had made no effort to speak and was gripping his arms harder than he needed to. What Remus had said was beginning to click with his earlier internal monologue and it was worrying him more than he would have liked.

"I don't know quite what to think," Lupin shrugged. "But I know she's already sought out Poppy's help regarding a pregnancy concern –"

"What?" Minerva hissed, casting a wide-eyed glance in Snape's direction.

"—and I'm not entirely convinced that it was regarding her initial assault as she claimed. I don't think Poppy is, either. And I know that you've already caught her engaging in unsuitable behavior as you called it, Severus, with Cormac McLaggen. I'm sure I don't need to enlighten the two of you as to his reputation amongst his peers. All of that combined with what I witnessed last night…I don't think it a very far leap to make, logically."

The elder witch sighed and sat down in a chair beside Snape. "Exactly what do you think we should do with this information?"

Remus scratched his head and shrugged. "That I don't know. Perhaps we should speak with her regarding our concerns."

"_Your_ concerns," Severus mumbled, leaning back in his chair. "And if you're suggesting we haul her in, set her down, and tell her we think she's acting like some Jezebel tart, _you_ are even more out of line than I am."

Minerva took in a deep breath and rested her elbows on the armrests of her chair. "Forgive me, Remus, but I am inclined to agree with him. You have no evidence pointing to anything outside of a possible relationship with Mr. McLaggen, and while we do not condone sexual relations amongst students, there is nothing we can do unless they are actually caught in the act. Even then, it's only a matter of point deductions and detentions. Expulsion perhaps if there is a pregnancy, depending on the situation, of course."

"So, you're saying we do nothing?" Remus asked, folding his arms across his chest.

"Remus, you don't have any proof of anything," she sighed, shaking her head. "If you did, it might be different, but as it is… I can sit down with Miss Granger again and see if she will open up to me, but beyond that, there really is nothing we _can_ do."

The werewolf slowly nodded and inhaled deeply. "You're right, of course. Both of you, actually."

Snape snorted and stared fixedly at his robes.

Lupin pointedly ignored him and focused on Minerva. "But you agree we should keep an eye out for her."

"Yes, of course," she nodded, "but remember that she is of age –"

"Barely," Severus muttered.

"—and that you are neither her parent nor are you an assigned guardian. Unless her conduct is in direct violation of school policy, you do not have any authority to force her to do otherwise. Offer all of the advice you want, but she is not under any obligation to follow it. Is that clear?"

Remus nodded with a sigh. "I understand. I just think we should do what's best for her."

"As do we all," McGonagall stated somberly. "But unless you have all the facts straight, what's best for her may not be what you think should be done."

A small silence fell upon the room as the man took a deep breath and thought about what had been said. After a few seconds, he nodded and shuffled his feet.

"Well, now that I've had my word, I do have a rather sizeable stack of essays calling my name." He offered them each a polite smile before turning to leave.

"Bear in mind, Lupin," Snape drawled, catching the man as he reached the door. "If I catch you sniffing anyone inappropriately, I will inform the Headmaster directly. And if your snout is discovered anywhere near my person, I will personally see to its immediate removal."

Before she could stop herself, Minerva let out a snort and then slapped her hand over her mouth.

"So noted, Severus," Remus said with an amused grin as he disappeared into the corridor.

When the door clicked shut, Snape locked it with a flick of his wand and strengthened his _Muffliato_. He leaned his elbows on the staffroom table and held his head in one hand. "You do realize he'll be watching her like a hawk now."

"Well, what was I supposed to do, Severus?" McGonagall snapped in exasperation. "Nothing I could have said would have changed that."

"I know," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A second later, he groaned and leaned back in his chair. "He had to go and hire a bloody werewolf, didn't he?"

"Yes, and I'm sure he did it purposely to spite you."

"Of that I have no doubt," he answered. "I have noticed that he likes to make my life difficult."

The witch gave a terse grin. "Only because you are such a charming individual when under duress."

Snape shot her a warning scowl before resting his head against the back of the chair and covering his face with his hands. "What exactly are we going to do about the furry problem?"

Minerva sighed. "How much of a problem is he?"

"Granger and I have lessons two nights a week, during Gryffindor Quidditch practices. If he's watching her as close as I suspect he will be, he's bound to notice her sneaking down to the dungeons on a regular basis. Either he'll assume she's making her way around the Slytherin dormitory, or he'll hit the nail relatively close to the head."

"Well then," she muttered, rubbing her chin. "If it requires, Miss Granger and I can sit down for a nice chat every Monday and Thursday evening, and if she happens to stumble into the Floo, who be I to stop her?"

The wizard gave a soft snort and rubbed his forehead. "And then there's the matter of the bond which has to be renewed every two to three weeks depending on… things."

"Things?" she queried with the raise of an eyebrow.

"A conversation which I shall never have with you, Madam."

"Ah," she smiled knowingly. "And you thought the crying part was difficult."

Severus glared at her from beneath his hand. "The lot of you leak entirely too much."

A hearty round of chuckles exploded from the witch until she was forced to wipe away at tears. "Yes, I think the lot of us would agree."

A full minute passed before she settled back into a slightly more serious tone. "I guess I'll just have to give you permission to convert my office as a hallway then… with advance notice, if you would."

"If desperation strikes," he muttered with a nod.

"Very well," she responded, folding her arms and donning a cross look. "Now what is this about pregnancy concerns?"

** X  
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Hermione sighed and scratched at her temple as she stared at the blank sheet of parchment before her. Hesitantly, she picked up her quill, dipped it into the pot of ink, and slowly scratched out four words.

**_Dear Mum and Dad,_**

That much she could figure out for now. The rest of the letter had her stomach tied up in knots. There was so much that she had thought she wanted to tell them, but now nothing seemed to come to mind. She did not know what they knew or what she could tell them. And even if she could tell them, what if the letter fell into the wrong hands?

With another sad breath, she balanced the quill across the top of the inkwell and then leaned back in her chair. After a few minutes of nibbling on her bottom lip, she covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly.

_What the hell can I write?_

If they did not know about her current predicament, there was no way she was going to tell them now. At least, not in a letter. _God, that would be a horrible letter to receive… 'Dear Mum and Dad, guess what? I got kidnapped by a pack of roving psychopaths and raped by my professor. But don't worry about me, because that professor really does care about me and is teaching me all sorts of illegal things to protect me. He burnt down our house, too. Oh, and we had real sex last night and it was nice. Love, Hermione. P.S. You can't kill him, Dad, because then I'd die, too. Love you bunches!'_

The girl let out a loud, exasperated sigh and collapsed onto her desk. The hesitation on Snape's face when she had asked to send a letter made her think that he would be going out of his way to deliver it. If that were true, she did not want to waste it on some generic '_I'm alright. How are you?_' letter.

Snape was expecting her letter, too. She did not feel right in just blowing it off entirely and telling him 'Never mind.' On the same note, she could not keep him waiting forever for it. Who knew how many hoops he had to jump through just to deliver it?

Hermione sniffled as tears of frustration began forming in her eyes. She did not care about writing the bloody letter anymore. She just wanted to curl up in her mother's lap and cry herself dry. But, of course, that was not an option available to her anytime soon, so she was just going to have to take what she could get. After twisting the sapphire ring on her finger, she squeezed her eyes shut and sat upright. With a shake of her head, she reached for her quill once again.

It took nearly an hour and a half for her to scratch out a decent attempt. Blowing over the last few lines to dry the ink, she reread the draft.

**_Dear Mum and Dad,_**

**_I hope the both of you are doing well and I miss you terribly. I feel completely horrid about how things ended this summer. I should never have stormed out on our conversation. I know you were only concerned for me, and I am so sorry for my reaction. I love you so much and I think of you every day. This year has been exceptionally trying, and you have absolutely no idea how much I wish you were here with me._**

**_Crookshanks is doing well – disappearing more than usual, but he shows up when I need him the most. Harry's alright, I think. Ron's going with Lavender now, if you can believe it. If I have to listen to her obnoxious giggling in the common room for much longer, I swear I'm going to go spare. It helps, though, to commiserate with Ginny (Ron's sister), who is the fifth-year prefect now. It's nice to have roommates who understand me for a change. Mattie's much more interested in academics than she is in make-up and hair charms, and Gin would rather discuss Quidditch than clothes. _**

**_Classes are going well, too. Professor Snape actually gave me an 'O' on an essay – it's a shock, I know. Harry made it into Advanced Potions, so I've partnered with him again. Ron didn't, of course, but I'm starting to think that may be a good thing. Defense classes are a drastic improvement over last year. Professor Lupin is back and is actually allowing us to practice magic, unlike his predecessor. I've been practicing outside of class more, and I think I'm doing better this year than any other. _**

**_There's so much I wish to tell you, but I really don't know what to write. I guess I should thank you for my birthday present, however. I very seriously cried when I opened it and I want you to know just how much it means to me. I've been wearing it recently and I don't ever want to take it off. Every time I look at it, I think of you and it's like there's a piece of you with me at all times. _**

**_Again, I love you both so much, and I cannot wait to hear from you._**

**_Love Always,_**

**_Hermione_**

With a nervous look on her face, she folded the parchment sheet into thirds and tucked it into her Potions textbook. It seemed innocuous enough to her, but she figured it would not be sent unless Snape agreed as well.

Rubbing her collarbone, Hermione could not think of anything he would object to. There was no mention of Voldemort, or Death Eaters, or medieval binding practices, or apparating without a license, or…sex.

She blew out a deep breath. Monday's Potions lesson was bound to be awkward. How she could listen to him lecture and not think about her hands moving across his naked torso, she had no clue.

** X**

There was a soft rapping on his door. Severus issued his standard acknowledgement and glanced up from his pile of essays as the door opened to reveal a fearful Miss Granger. Tears were forming in her eyes as she shut the door and ran over to his desk, collapsing into a fit of sobs at his feet.

Eyes widening in shock, he glanced at her shaking form. He then reached down and tilted up her chin.

"What is it?"

A shudder of anxiety rippled through her body and she tried to turn her head away from him. With a frown, he forced her back into looking at him.

"Tell me!"

Her face grimaced in pain and her voice came in short gasps. "I'm so…so sorry! I went to Poppy…and she said…she said that I'm pregnant!"

"Impossible!" he bellowed, tossing her chin away and standing to his full height. "We've used the contraceptive every time!"

"I kn-know, but I am!" she stuttered tearfully.

Snape made to argue once again, but happened to look down and catch sight of her suddenly swollen belly. Panic rippled through him at the sight of it, and he knew it was too late to brew any type of abortifacient.

"You should have come to me sooner!" he shouted, running his hands through his hair.

"I know! I'm sorry!"

He was about to start hyperventilating when the door to his office burst open to reveal an angry Remus Lupin.

"I knew it!" the werewolf shouted, advancing upon him with his wand drawn. "I should have known it from the minute you started accusing _me_ of lusting after her. All along, it was _you_!"

"Lupin, it's not what you think!"

"No?" he questioned with a tip of his head and a shake of his wand. "What I think is there's a student lying on your floor about to give birth to your child… _Snivellus_! Tell me I'm wrong!"

_About to give birth? She couldn't be!_ At the sound of screaming, however, he was proved wrong. Spinning around, he witnessed a sweat-drenched Hermione groaning loudly as she tried to push forth the baby. Without a further thought towards his colleague, he dropped to the ground before her. There was another painful grunting noise, and a slimy weight fell into his hands. Soft cries came from the infant, and Severus felt a sense of awe wash over him as he stared down at his bloodied son.

The feeling immediately lurched into fear, however, when his office shifted into the clearing where Hermione had been bound to him.

"Severus!" Voldemort hissed angrily. "I gave the mudblood to you for entertainment, not for procreation!"

"My Lord," he pleaded, cradling his screaming son to his chest, "It was not meant to happen!"

"Silence!" The dark wizard stormed through his cluster of followers and appeared in front of him. His red eyes glowed dangerously as he leaned in to whisper. "You have failed me for the last time. You will prove yourself to me, once and for all!"

With that, he took a step back and gestured wildly. "It's time for you to make a choice, Severus! The spawn or the whore – you may only keep one!"

"What –"

His protest was cut off by a round of ear-piercing cries, and his gaze swept to the stone altar where Hermione was once again stripped naked and was writhing beneath Bellatrix's wand. He wanted to shout or throw himself in front of the curse instead, but he found himself unable to do anything but watch the girl be tortured.

"Tick, tock, Severus!" Voldemort chuckled darkly. "Keep one, kill the other!"

"No," he whispered. He looked down at the wriggling bundle in his arms and saw Hermione's eyes gazing back at him from beneath a smattering of dark hair. Looking up, he noticed Bellatrix had lifted the _Cruciatus_ briefly and Hermione herself was staring at him. Two identical pairs of brown irises pleading with him for their life.

"P-please…Professor!"

"P-p-p-please…P-p-p-professor!" Bellatrix cackled before recasting the Unforgiveable.

Hermione's screams swirled around him, and the babe began to cry loudly. Severus knew he could not choose. He could not kill either of them. He could not do it.

A crack of apparition could be heard and Snape looked up to see Albus Dumbledore standing at his side. Relief swelled through him. The Order was coming! He would not have to choose. The Dark Lord would fall, and Hermione and his son would be safe.

"Headmaster, you –"

Dumbledore held up a hand and shook his head. "You have to choose, Severus. I need you to choose. For Harry's sake. For Lily's sake."

"No," he begged. "I can't! Don't make me do this!"

"But you must," the Headmaster's voice called as his image began to fade. "For everyone's sake, you must!"

His earlier relief crumped into utter despair as he looked again between the infant and its mother. He could not choose. He would not –

"P-professor!" Hermione's voice called out to him as she struggled. "S-save _him_! P-please!"

With tears rolling down his cheeks, he nodded gravely and raised his wand. "Avada Kedav –"

But it was too late. He had taken too long to make his decision. Severus gasped as he felt his throat begin to restrict and blackness was beginning to seep into his vision.

"Now, you all die!" the Dark Lord cackled as the curse continued to strangle him.

** X**

Severus's eyes flew open to find the ginger cat was currently standing upon his throat.

"Get off!" he shouted, pushing the creature away from him. His voice was hoarse, and he knew he must have been screaming in his sleep. His cheeks were wet with tears and his body was covered in sweat. Kicking off the covers, he climbed out of bed and shakily made his way towards the sitting room.

He did not even bother with finding a glass. He pulled out the fire-whiskey bottle from its cabinet, opened it, and tossed back a large gulp. It burned the entire way down, but Snape did not care. He immediately knocked back a second shot. Slamming the bottle down onto the end-table, he collapsed into his armchair and stared into the blackness of the room.

He did not even startle when Crookshanks jumped onto his lap and started kneading his thighs. Ignoring the feline's ministrations, Severus tipped his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

_Granger is _not_ with child. Even if I did knock her up after Poppy performed the charm, she could only be five weeks along at most. There would still be time to – No, she isn't pregnant! If she's so sure she's having her…_that_…next week, then she must have already had one since. We've used contraception every time...unless the potion wasn't effective. No! I watched her brew it – it was done correctly. And the _VacuusOrtis_ is one of the oldest known potions. It has to be effective even with the binding, doesn't it? There's no reason to worry… unless she misses again. _

_Merlin_. He was going to have to find out for sure if Granger was still menstruating or not. Grabbing hold of the slender-necked bottle, he took another long swallow. Relishing in the burn, he set the bottle back and glanced down at his lap. The half-kneazle had paused in his task and was fixing him with a disapproving stare.

"I don't see _you_ volunteering to have that conversation with her!" he spat with a glare.

The cat matched his gaze for a few more seconds before dropping his attention back to kneading.

Snape let out a long breath and squinted at the clock. He had a little over six hours to brood before he would have to stand in front of the sixth-year class. How he could lecture to her without thinking of the screaming girl in his nightmare, he had no clue.

** X**

"It's weird," Harry muttered under his breath.

Hermione frowned and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "What is?"

"The class is nearly over and he hasn't looked in our direction once."

"Oh," she whispered. "I hadn't noticed."

It was true. She had not noticed that Snape had kept his eyes trained on practically anywhere else but their table. She had not noticed because she had been too busy keeping her eyes trained on anywhere but his figure.

"He hasn't been watching us," Harry affirmed, "but Malfoy has."

"What?" she whispered, tossing a hasty glance in the direction of the blonde Slytherin. Draco met her gaze for half a second, before he cast his eyes back to the front of the classroom. Unconsciously, she let her eyes follow his to the lectern where Snape's pale fingers were clutching the edge.

Hermione's cheeks flushed as she tried to shut out the memory of those fingers tangling in her hair and moving along her bare chest. Swallowing nervously, she wished desperately that today had been a practical session, so she could focus on something other than his voice. And at least then, she could try to blame the redness of her face on the heat from the flame beneath the cauldron.

Letting out a slow breath, she averted her eyes back in Malfoy's direction. Her discomfort eased somewhat into curiosity when she noticed him itching his left arm again. Draco glanced up and caught her staring. Immediately, a look of uncertainty flickered across his features, and he folded his arms against his chest.

"Something's off with him," Harry mumbled.

She nodded slowly as Draco turned back to stare at the top of his desk.

"I don't like –"

"Potter!" Snape shouted. "Five points for speaking out of turn! Now tell me why the boomslang skin of a female snake is preferable to that of a male?"

The boy floundered a bit under his gaze, trying to think of a possible reason. When Harry glanced at Hermione sheepishly, she sighed and raised her hand.

"Granger, would you put your hand down?" Snape said with a roll of his eyes.

"But she knows the answer, sir!" Harry protested.

"Of course Granger knows the answer!" the professor hissed. "Anyone worth their salt knows the answer. The point is, you don't! Perhaps if you were paying attention to me and not whispering sweet nothings into your partner's ear, you would know!"

A hiss of snickers erupted from the Slytherin students.

"I wasn't –" Harry nearly stood out of his chair, but his denial was cut short.

"Granger, would you tell your boyfriend the answer?"

"He's not my –" Hermione squeezed her eyes shut briefly and cleared her throat. "Female boomslang skins are preferable as their brown pigment is more conducive to changes than is the green pigment found in male boomslang snakes."

"Indeed," Snape scowled, glancing back at Harry. "Another five points from Gryffindor for interrupting my class."

Letting out a small whimper, Hermione noticed several sets of eyes on her.

_Well, at least now I can blame the blushing on embarrassment, _she thought glumly as she flipped to a new sheet of her notebook.

**Granger**.

Her eyes flicked immediately to the professor who was currently demanding an answer from one of the Ravenclaws regarding the method for removing the green pigment.

**For our session this evening, you will need to visit Professor McGonagall in her office. **

_What? Why?_

**I will explain later.**

Hermione frowned and dropped her gaze back to her notes_. You planned that on purpose, didn't you? So I would already be flustered._

**I have no idea of what you're thinking.**

A small smirk, however, had made its way onto his face, which caused the student speaking to stutter nervously in the middle of his response.

** X**

As seven o'clock approached, Hermione knocked politely on McGonagall's office door. When she was bade entrance, she slipped into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," Minerva smiled, gesturing towards the fireplace. "Professor Snape is waiting for you in his office."

The girl sighed and crossed the room. "Is this really necessary?"

McGonagall shrugged and reached for another essay. "For the time being, I think it best to humor his paranoia."

Hermione grunted and reached for the floo powder. She tossed a pinch into the fire and called out her destination before spinning away.

She coughed out of habit and brushed the feeling of soot from her clothes as she stepped out in the dungeon office. She had barely enough time to reorient herself after her trip before she felt the cold dripping of a Disillusionment charm being cast on her.

"If you would follow me to the classroom, Miss Granger," Snape instructed before opening his door and stepping into the hallway.

When they had reached the Potions room and the door was soundly secured behind them, he cancelled the charm and began moving towards the storeroom.

"Is there a reason for the cloak-and-dagger routine?" she asked nervously, following him through the narrow room.

The man sighed as he pushed open the door to the unused classroom. "Lupin."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Now what?"

"Your little run-in with him the other night."

"I didn't mean to get caught!" she protested, crossing her arms. "There was a turn in the staircase, and I didn't see him. I didn't mean to run into him."

Severus shook his head. "_That_ isn't the problem. He would have bought your story if it weren't for his being a werewolf."

"Why does that have anything to do with it?"

"Think about it, Granger!" he sneered. "I know full well you covered it in your essay third year."

The girl wrinkled her nose as she remembered back to her research. "They can suffer violent outbursts… they can sense fear… they have better nocturnal vision… erm… they have a more advanced sense of smell…"

"And therein lies the rub," he muttered.

She raised an eyebrow. "What? He can _smell_ lies?"

"It isn't the lie he could smell," he stated pointedly.

It took a few seconds for her eyes to widen in realization and her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, god! He could tell that I… Wait, does he know that it was you?"

Snape shook his head. "Our only spot of luck was that it occurred after the full moon. Any nearer an impending transformation, his sense of smell would have been more developed, and I would have again been on the receiving end of one of his violent outbursts."

"So, he's going to be watching me closer, is what you're saying?" At his nod, she ran her hands through her hair and let out a frustrated cry. "So what are we going to do?"

He straightened and cleared his throat. "Minerva has graciously offered to provide you private counseling two nights a week, simultaneously working to provide you with an alibi, and hopefully deterring any pathetic attempts of his to counsel you himself."

"And the… _you know_?" she asked nervously.

Severus snorted. "If need be, the _you know_ can also be arranged through McGonagall's office. You, however, will be showering thoroughly before returning to your dormitory, lest fate be tempted to have her way with us yet again."

The girl leaned sadly against one of the upturned tables. "She does seem to have developed a penchant for the pair of us."

"You have no idea," he sighed. "However, in the interest of spiting the fickle bitch…"

Hermione risked a small giggle as she slipped out her wand and took a defensive stance.

** X**

"Hey, Hermione!"

She spun around quickly to see Harry running to catch up with her. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if I might partner up with you today," he mumbled as they climbed the stairs towards the Defense classroom.

"Why? What's wrong with Ron?"

Harry gave her a pointed stare as he adjusted his book bag.

"Oh," she smirked. "It's only been a week and a half, Harry."

"She's taken to calling him Won-won," he complained.

Hermione scrunched her nose up in disgust. "_That_ is positively vile."

"Tell me about it," he grumbled. "If I have to listen to any more of that rubbish, I don't know if I can keep to non-lethal spells."

"As much as it would pain me to see you in Azkaban," she snickered, "do you really think it fair to foist him off on Neville?"

"Who are you foisting on me?" Neville asked, filing in the room behind them.

"Ron," they whispered in unison.

"What? You don't think I can handle him?"

"I have every confidence in you, Neville," Hermione smiled. "But Harry seems to be struggling not to mortally wound him."

"Oh," he mumbled before shrugging. "I wouldn't mind."

"Are you sure –"

"Brilliant!" Harry said loudly, clapping the other boy on the back before grabbing hold of Hermione's arm and steering her towards their seats.

As Remus began the brief lecture portion, Hermione quickly found her attention wandering. He was discussing the different non-verbal shields that were covered in the textbook, but since Professor Snape had already made her work through them for the past two defense lessons, she could not find the motivation to take any notes.

Off-handedly she wondered why Dumbledore never considered Snape as a viable candidate for the Defense position. It was not that Remus was a bad teacher – he surpassed all of her other Defense instructors by leaps and bounds – but it was just that Snape was better. She doubted he would waste so much time with the textbook in class, but would instead require more preparation outside of the classroom so that the session could be focused more towards the practical application. Which, when there was a Dark Lord waiting in the wings, would probably be the best thing to do.

Sighing, she glanced over at Harry and realized that few people would probably actually take Defense if they knew Snape were to be teaching it. Though, there would surely have been more Slytherin participation in the course. As it was now, there was only one Slytherin student enrolled in their class – Tracey Davis. As Slytherins went, Tracey was probably Hermione's favorite. She was quiet, studious, and kept to herself. She had backed up her Housemates' stories a time or two, but never had been one to start a fight or make any comments. Surprisingly enough, she had never been heard spewing blood-purity rubbish or mouthing off about Harry – or even Gryffindors, in general.

_Hopefully, she'll stay that way_, Hermione thought, leaning forward against her desk. _It would be nice to see some Slytherins not drift off to the Death Eaters._

_Oh_. She mentally shook her head at her idiocy. _That_ was why Snape could not teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. Voldemort and his followers would not look too kindly upon it, and that would undoubtedly put the Slytherin Head in an even more precarious position.

_Fate really is a fickle bitch_. Hermione frowned and crossed her arms. The one man who could best teach them to defend themselves against Death Eaters could not actually teach them to defend themselves against Death Eaters.

_Well…he can teach me_, she conceded. _One person is better than none, right?_

Glancing down at her open book bag, she caught sight of her Potions text and realized she had forgotten to hand Snape her letter. Deciding she could slip it to him after that afternoon's practical session, she blew out a small breath and tuned back into Lupin long enough to have him direct the class to partner up for shielding practice.

Immediately, Harry latched onto her arm and tugged her towards his usual spot.

"What the hell, Harry?" Ron grumbled.

Harry seemed to be struggling for an appropriate response, so Hermione rolled her eyes and answered for him. "We thought it might be good practice to switch up partners every so often."

"Yeah, so we don't get stuck in a rut," Harry agreed. "Push our boundaries a bit."

"Oh, makes sense," Ron nodded, before dropping his voice. "But _Neville_? Where's the practice for me?"

A spark of rage began to burn inside Hermione and she barely managed to keep from shouting at him. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and tilted her head innocently. "You could be the nice guy and help him out. I'm sure Lav-Lav would find it charming."

Ron's face nearly matched his hair as he stalked over towards Neville.

"Lav-Lav?" Harry snorted.

She shook her head. "I don't know – it just came to me."

"It reminds me of the loo," he smirked. "Ooh, ooh – Lavvy-poo!"

Hermione threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Harry, Hermione," Remus cautioned, "perhaps you could use your time for what was assigned."

"Right. Sorry."

Sobering their expressions, the two friends squared off from each other. Harry offered to practice his shielding first, and so Hermione silently launched a stinging hex his way. When the boy cried out in mild pain, she bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," he grumbled, shaking his arm. "That hurt."

"Then shield it," she challenged.

"It would be easier to shield if I knew it was coming."

The witch smirked and twirled her wand. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. Dark Lord? Could you possibly let me know when you're going to curse me, so I can try to block it? Oh, you will? Splendid!"

Harry stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds before giving her a lopsided grin. "That would be rather fantastic, wouldn't it?"

"Fantasy being the key root word, yes," she nodded. "Care to try again?"

"You bet," he nodded. She sent him another hex, which he failed to block. "Ow! You're way faster than Ron."

"Well spotted," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I did tend to best him during DA sessions, didn't I?"

"Well, yeah, but I thought that was because he was…erm…"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "He was _what_? Going easy on me, you think?"

"Erm…no offense."

With a flick of her wand she sent a tripping hex towards him, and Harry suddenly found himself face down on the ground.

"Hermione, brilliant non-verbals," Remus stated quietly as he stepped past them. "Harry, you need a little work on your shielding."

The boy groaned as he picked himself off of the floor. "She's so quick, though."

"Anticipate," the professor said before moving on to the next group.

"Easier said than done," Harry muttered.

Hermione gave a snort and rolled her eyes.

"Well, if you think it's so easy, maybe we can switch turns."

She shrugged nonchalantly, but grinned wickedly on the inside.

** X**

Snape paused as he walked through the rows of students brewing and raised his eyebrow in disbelief. The majority of the class period had passed by, and Potter had yet to say one word. Folding his arms, he studied the two Gryffindors for a moment. A small smirk appeared on his face as he noted that Harry was purposely focusing all of his attention on his potion for the first time in memory. Granger seemed completely content with being ignored by her partner, and the satisfied glint in her eye had yet to vanish since she had first walked into the classroom that afternoon.

Moving on to a pair of Hufflepuffs, he thought fondly back to the lunch hour when Lupin had regaled them with the tale of his early morning class. It had been most amusing – yet not surprising – to hear that Hermione had all but wiped the floor with The-Boy-Who-Lived, as had Longbottom with The-Ginger-Sidekick. The dynamic duo had still been licking their wounds during the noon meal. Though in Weasley's case, Miss Brown had nauseatingly been doing most of the 'licking.'

As he heard the tinkling of glass vials being prepared, Severus headed back to his desk and set out the wire collection basket before pulling a pile of third-year essays towards him. Shortly after, several students began turning in their results and vacating the room. He was mildly surprised to see Potter turn in his nearly-perfect completed potion before Hermione had even started decanting hers. When the next two students cautiously placed their flasks in the baskets and fled to safety, he looked up briefly and noticed she was being intentionally slow. In fact, she was hovering at her table, attempting to remain inconspicuous while the last remaining student finished bottling his brew.

Snape rolled his eyes slightly and sighed. "Miss Granger, is there a reason you are wasting my time?"

Hermione bit her lip as she glanced nervously at the other student. "Erm, I was wondering if I could ask you a question about the essay you set."

"If you must," he grumbled, sighing dramatically for the benefit of the boy handing in his flask. When the room was empty save for the two of them, he set down his quill and glanced at her. "What is it really, Granger?"

The girl let out a deep breath after setting down her potion and then handed him a folded parchment. "I finished my letter."

Severus gave a small grunt of acknowledgment as he took it from her and immediately set it down. "I shall see to its delivery as soon as it is possible."

She nodded and hesitantly looked at the paper. "You aren't going to read it?"

"Is it your impression that I make a habit of reading others' correspondence?" he asked blandly, returning to his marking.

"Well, no," she stammered. "I just wasn't sure if you wanted to screen what I wrote. I can rewrite it if you think I should."

He exhaled slowly and reached for the letter. His face remained impassive as he skimmed through it. "It's fine."

Hermione breathed in relief and nodded before turning to leave.

"Granger."

"Yes?" she asked, facing him.

"About the matter we discussed earlier," he started cautiously, pointedly staring at his desk top. "Have you…"

The young witch frowned as he trailed off, and then scratched her eyebrow trying to figure out to which matter he was referring. "Are you asking if I've showered today? Or what?"

Severus grimaced and wiped his hand over his face. "You mentioned a certain event taking place this week. I just…wanted to ascertain that it had…taken place as was expected."

Hermione let out a laugh and covered her face in embarrassment. "I can't believe you're asking me that, but, erm, yes. The _event_ is _taking place _as expected."

With a relieved sigh, the wizard nodded slowly and picked up his quill again. He cleared his throat and flicked his gaze towards her. "I trust you will be fully capable of completing your essay now."

She raised her eyebrows in mild confusion, but nodded and took her leave. As she made her way up towards the ground floor, she wondered briefly why Snape had needed to ask whether or not she had started her cycle. Undoubtedly, he had been shocked by the mention of her pregnancy scare, so perhaps he was simply being paranoid now.

_Better to be overly cautious, I suppose, than to be caught completely unaware._

As she stepped off of the staircase and began making her way to the Great Hall, she shook those thoughts away and started mentally writing her essay on the uses of cornflowers as potion ingredients.

Distracted as she was, she barely managed a squeal as a cold hand clamped over her mouth.


	38. Misunderstandings and Motivation

**A/N: Wow...I have really fallen behind on answering reviews. There are just so many of them - which is completely awesome! - and it does take up so much time. I will continue reading all of them, for sure, and if there are pressing questions or anything, I will be sure to respond personally, but otherwise, I may just have to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone.  
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**So thank you to - Phirebrush, JenniferLupinBlack, Li-Li-ThePinkbookgirl, ButterflyGirl89, meepmeepziptang, Zoldronica, BlooDsucKkerR69, Aubrey'Snape, simplyy gabrielle, lyingtonguesareclumsy, Jodz88, Angelwells, cutemara, Tsukinoko1, mairamout, ptite mac, clio, Annie27766, Petite Mule, NoneOfYourConcern, roon0, tennis14321432, SweetieXoX27, jmullinax, SapphireDreamer26, silverose29, JeniDRalph, Takuma Angel, whenthesnowmelts, AllyZ, 2carm2carm2, Mrs. Twilight, KittyPimms, Lover of Fantasy, La muta larmo, callalily32, InezSophia, Zoek80, Scipio'sgirl, angelhitomie, HPFanGirl01, Sasamii, melonka, justy 13, snapeophil, vampirela69, xSiriusxstalkerx, ancim, DedicatedReader, alicehsbb, VAILA, 2muchrubbish, Lyra Lupin, Eebaral Knight, fjums, Veggemite, hnwhitlock2000, pinknose1, Jinx452, tori-victoria, lycaria, Severus49, lloralalluvia, anniekun93, amanita virosa, Tamora Fina, Tilly, limevox, Sev01, Mossyrock, Mel, angellicious02, Slinkiee, Eawynne, MyCatSammy, vampireluph, lunar47, Hazel08, Zoil, cinnamin, terrier2468, Just Me, emdramaqueen, and the many guest reviewers!  
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**Congrats to the many of you who guessed right...  
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* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 38  
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Hermione struggled as she felt herself being dragged into an alcove behind a stone statue of Merlin. When she managed to wriggle one arm free, she forcefully threw her elbow behind her. A grunt sounded in her ear as her captor released his hold on her.

"Damn it, Granger!"

Her eyes widened as she whirled around to face the voice. "Malfoy!"

Instinctively, she reached for her wand, only to discover it was already in his hand. He had disarmed her at the same time he had pulled her from the corridor. With a shudder, she recognized the buzzing of a _Muffliato_ having been cast. She was effectively pinned between the statue and her captor, wandless, with no one to hear her even if she screamed.

"Give me back my wand," she demanded shakily, fighting hard not to think of the last time she had been taken captive. She could feel the panic beginning to creep steadily in with each second that passed.

Draco, who had doubled over at the blow to his groin, straightened nearly to his full height and shook his head. "No –"

A light bulb went off in her head as she realized that she _did_ have someone who could hear her. While the boy began his response, she fought to pull her focus together in preparation to send her mental patronus.

"—not yet."

Her eyebrows narrowed and she paused in her current task_. Not yet?_

"We need to talk," he muttered, grabbing hold of her left wrist.

"Talk?" Hermione winced as he yanked her arm towards him. She tried to pull away from him, but his grip was firm as he pushed up her sleeve. "What the hell are you doing?"

He frowned while staring at her bare forearm. A split second later, he roughly tossed the arm away before seizing hold of her right wrist and repeating the process. His scowl deepened even further and he stared up at her face. "_Where_ is it?"

Her face twisted in confusion at the desperate tone in his voice. "What? Where is _what_?"

Malfoy growled and threw her arm back at her with such force that she had to take a step backwards. He ran his hands through his hair anxiously as his voice dropped nearly to a whisper. "He said you were one of his."

_One of his?_ The girl took in a nervous breath as she watched him. "Draco, what are you –"

"This!" he shouted, pulling up the sleeve of his own left arm.

Hermione gasped slightly at the sight of the Dark Mark. The edges were red and raw as though the skin around it was inflamed.

Harry was right. Draco Malfoy was a full-fledged Death Eater.

"This is what I'm looking for, you stupid chit!" he spat, shoving the offensive branding beneath her nose. "He said you were spying for the Dark Lord!"

Her stomach dropped suddenly and she swallowed a large gulp of air. "Who…who said?"

"Snape," he hissed, pushing down the sleeve of his robes.

"He t-told you?" The witch felt as though the floor had just been pulled from beneath her.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust. "So it is true. Potter's little mudblood is a traitor."

She bristled at the use of the derogatory word, but said nothing as her mind began to reel. Draco Malfoy knew her secret, and Snape had been the one to tell him. She had always considered it a possibility that the blonde had known about the arrangement between herself and his Head of House as his father and aunt were both present at the ceremony. Finding out that he only knew because of Snape, however, felt like a kick to the stomach.

The Slytherin let out a snarl and pushed her up against the statue. "What have you told him?"

Hermione attempted to pry his fingers from her robes as she floundered to find an answer. "N-n-nothing!"

"Bullshit!" he accused, tightening his grip on her clothes, lifting her off of the ground slightly. "You're lying! You've been watching me! He's ordered you to spy on me, hasn't he?"

"What?" she gasped. "Wh-why would I n-need to do that?"

Malfoy snarled and suddenly tore away from her, causing her to stumble and lose her balance. "I have no plans of doing anything but what he demanded of me! Be sure to tell him that!"

As she picked herself up from the floor, she could only watch in shock as the boy tossed her wand at her and stormed down the hallway.

**X **

Remus scratched the back of his head as he descended the staircase on his way to supper. He had been impressed with Hermione's and Neville's display of shielding techniques during the first session of the day, but the rest of his classes had been less than enjoyable. While teaching the Slytherin-Gryffindor section of second-years disarming spells, a scuffle had broken out amongst the students, which had required him to hit the entire class with temporary freezing and sticking charms before calling in Minerva for back-up. Needless to say, both the Gryffindor and Slytherin hourglasses were looking a little less full. Undoubtedly Severus would have something nasty to say about it shortly.

He let out a sigh as he stepped onto the ground floor, but paused suddenly when he noticed Draco Malfoy slipping out from behind the statue of Merlin. He frowned as he watched the boy walk quickly towards the Great Hall and wondered briefly what the Slytherin had been doing. He was just about to take another step forward when Hermione appeared from the same alcove. His eyes widened in shock as he witnessed her straightening her robes and smoothing back her hair before following the blonde's path down the hallway.

Cormac McLaggen was one thing, but the Malfoy heir? What the hell was Hermione thinking messing around with the son of a prominent Death Eater? Had she completely forgotten that Draco's aunt was the one who had sent Sirius to his early death?

Remus was positively flabbergasted. Several minutes passed before he realized he was staring open-mouthed at an empty corridor. A shaky breath escaped him, and he ran both hands through his hair. He let another minute pass while he gathered his wits about him and then resumed his earlier pace towards the Great Hall. He ignored the chattering of the students seated at the tables on either side of the aisle down which he strode.

As he reached the dais, he took his seat and gazed oddly out towards the Gryffindor table. His eyes immediately locked on to the girl's form. She appeared pale and was oblivious to the animated discussion her friends were having as she stared blankly at her plate.

"Lupin," Snape drawled as he pulled out his seat. "I hear I have you to thank for knocking Slytherin House into last place."

When the werewolf did not give any response, he raised his eyebrow as he began to fill his plate. "I do believe even the most inane Hufflepuff first-year could have determined that pairing Slytherin students with Gryffindors would end in catastrophe. You yourself should be painfully aware of that –"

"It was Malfoy."

Snape narrowed his eyes as he raised his goblet of water. "Are you suggesting that Draco is to blame for the calamity of your classroom or are you attempting to blame your puerile exploits on Lucius? I assure you, Lupin, neither of those scenarios can be attributed to the Malfoy name."

"No," Remus whispered as the other man took a long sip from his glass. "Draco is the one sleeping with Herm—Miss Granger."

Severus swallowed suddenly in surprise and inadvertently choked on the water. Coughing loudly, he set the goblet down with enough force to slosh water over the side.

"Merlin's sake, Severus. Have you forgotten how to drink?" McGonagall chided, though her face was etched in concern.

With tears stinging at his eyes and his face reddened, he ignored her and spun to face the man beside him. "What?"

The Defense instructor glanced nervously about the hall and then leaned towards Snape and dropped his voice. "I just saw the two of them…together."

The taller man drew to his full seated height and crossed his arms. "You actually witnessed the two of them physically coupling?"

"No…not exactly." Remus shifted uncomfortably and explained what he had seen.

Snape remained silent, but let his eyes stray towards the two students in question.

"I don't believe they were involved in the actual act this time."

"No?" The Slytherin Head queried softly, continuing to flick his gaze between Malfoy and Hermione. "And what would lead you to that presumption?"

Lupin flushed bright red and cleared his throat. "She's on… it's… it's her… erm… my sense of smell led me to presume."

The Potions Master's face wrinkled in disgust as he glanced at his colleague, who suddenly paled.

"I didn't… it wasn't intentional, Severus."

"Of course not," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he mentally worked to un-silence his connection with the girl. "Next you'll be enlightening me as to her ovulation schedule."

Remus frowned and focused his gaze on the blonde Slytherin. "I thought you might want to know, seeing as Draco is in your House and you are to keep tabs on suspicious behavior therein."

"And any liaison between Miss Granger and a Slytherin must be a nefarious plot hatched by the Dark Lord."

"That isn't what I said." The werewolf sighed and wiped his face. "You can't tell me it isn't strange, though."

"No stranger than your continued interest in the matter," Severus muttered, removing his hand from his face and looking towards the girl. '_Granger!'_

Her head snapped up at the sound of his mental voice, and her gaze met his.

_'What were you doing with Malfoy?'_

He was surprised to see her eyes narrow dangerously and her lips pinch together.

**'What were _you_?'**

Severus fought the urge to raise his brow. _'What do you mean by that?'_

He watched in slight bewilderment as she tossed down her napkin, claimed not to be hungry, and stormed out of the hall. _'Granger!'_

He blew out a frustrated puff of air and pushed his chair back from the table.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked in a harsh whisper.

"I've recently been alerted to a possible nefarious plot," he sneered as he stood. "Or are you the only one allowed to investigate such claims?"

Lupin sighed and shook his head. As the dark-robed wizard slipped out the staff entrance, the werewolf cleared his throat and answered Minerva's quizzical gaze with a half-hearted smile. Hermione's possible relationship with Draco Malfoy was unsettling, but he felt a small surge of relief at Severus's involvement. While Harry was convinced otherwise, Remus knew that Snape had done everything he possibly could to ascertain Sirius's safety despite their tortuous history, and when he had found that Harry had fled the sanctuary of Hogwarts, he had immediately raised the alarm. It was the actions that Severus had taken that day that had secured Remus's trust in the spy.

Regardless of the man's posturing now, he was certain that Snape would do whatever was necessary to get to the bottom of Malfoy's sudden interest in Hermione. With that in mind, Remus cast a dubious glance towards the Slytherin table before reaching for the nearest platter.

**X**

"Are you going to explain what the hell this is all about?" Snape hissed as he slammed the door shut behind him. "Why, for instance, Lupin is suddenly so certain that Draco-sodding-Malfoy is the one bunching up your knickers?"

Hermione glanced up at him from his sofa and crossed her arms. "Maybe _you'd_ care to explain why Draco-sodding-Malfoy is suddenly so certain that I'm spying for You-Know-Who!"

The wizard's anger suddenly deflated and he rested his hand on the back of his armchair.

"Or _maybe_ you'd care to explain why you haven't told anyone that Draco-sodding-Malfoy is a fucking Death Eater now!" she shouted as she stood.

Severus let out a measured breath and squeezed his hand into a fist. "I have informed the Headmaster as to Mr. Malfoy's new status."

"Oh, so you just didn't see fit to tell me?" she huffed bitterly.

"No, I didn't," he scowled. "I _didn't_ see fit to tell you. Draco Malfoy's personal life is not of your concern."

"Not my _concern_?" The girl shrieked and gestured wildly. "I shouldn't have been _concerned_ that there was a Death Eater following my every move? In case it escaped your notice, Professor, I didn't particularly enjoy my dip in the lake!"

"That is exactly why the little snot needed to be told! So I didn't have to risk my neck saving you again!"

Hermione noticeably flinched as he bellowed at her. She swallowed nervously and folded her arms again. "Then don't bother. You certainly didn't have to do it the first time."

"God damn it, Granger!" Snape shouted, slamming his fist against the armchair. "Get it through that bushy-head of yours – I'm not going to let you die! Ever!"

A corpulent silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the heaving breaths of the two who had seemingly entered into a staring match. Eventually Severus blinked his eyes shut and turned his head towards the wall.

"I informed Malfoy of your position with the Dark Lord immediately following your near-drowning. I felt it prudent for you to have someone from Slytherin House looking out for you."

The young witch sighed and shifted on her feet. "By looking out for me, did you mean assailing me in the hallway on my way to supper, shoving me up against a statue, and then searching me for a Dark Mark? Because obviously that's what he took it as!"

Snape glanced at her in concern. "Are you injured?"

"No," she snapped, unconsciously rubbing her wrist where she knew bruises would later appear. Likely she would have marks on her shoulders and back as well, but she did not wish him to know that. She wanted to stay mad at him without him becoming uncharacteristically compassionate again.

"You may not agree with my decision, Miss Granger, but Draco has every reason not to allow you to come to serious harm."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You think that just because he's afraid of you he won't hurt me?"

"Fear is an excellent motivator," he stated softly, "but I am not exactly the one he fears."

"The hell you aren't!" she spat. "I've seen the way he looks at you in class now – kowtowing to your every demand, waiting even until you've let out the lesson before calling me a mud –"

"Do not use that word in my presence," he interrupted coolly. "And Draco is not so much afraid of me as he is of what could occur were I to express my displeasure with him to the Dark Lord."

The girl snorted disdainfully. "Perhaps he should have thought about that before he chose to pledge his life to the Death Eaters."

Severus swallowed in discomfort and stared at the corner of the sofa. Noticing the expression on his face, Hermione let out a deep breath and covered her eyes with her hand.

"Professor, I didn't mean it about you."

He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. "Despite what you may think, the young Mr. Malfoy did not have as clear-cut a choice as you make it sound."

"What does that mean?" she asked, an incredulous look on her face. "Either you choose to take the Mark, or you don't. It seems rather clear-cut to me."

"And when refusing the Mark means life imprisonment for your father and a death sentence for your mother?" He met her eyes with a sad gaze. "What then, Miss Granger?"

Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth opened slightly. After a few seconds, she shook her head. "Is that – that's why Draco…"

"You mentioned before that Lucius Malfoy managed to avoid Azkaban," he explained carefully. "Do you think the Dark Lord would have arranged that out of the kindness of his heart? No. Lucius may have escaped physical imprisonment, but do not make the mistake of assuming he escaped punishment. And I can assure you that the Dark Lord's idea of punishment is far crueler than that of the Ministry."

Hermione blew out a morose sigh. "But the way Draco always talked; it seemed he would happily accept it."

Snape glanced at the ceiling briefly before nodding. "And he probably would have had his father and aunt not disappointed the Dark Lord so. He would have waited until his majority and taken his place of honor beside his father in the inner circle. But even if that had been the case, do not presume that he would have been happy. The shine would have worn off rather quickly seeing as the boy's disposition better resembles his mother's than his father's. Lucius himself has become rather disillusioned with the Dark Lord, even before the debacle at the Ministry, and the threat to his wife and child has only further hollowed him."

The girl wrapped her arms around herself and sank back onto the couch. Suddenly the frenzied look that had been in Malfoy's eyes earlier that night made sense. He was scared out of his mind. "So if Draco fails the Dark Lord…"

"It is likely that Narcissa's death will be lengthy and excruciating, and he would undoubtedly find himself forcibly invited to witness it firsthand."

She gasped painfully and covered her face with her hands. "When did he…"

"He was happily indoctrinated on the eighteenth of July – the one month anniversary of his father's failure."

"But that was four months ago!"

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Your point being?"

Hermione swallowed back another shout and calmed her voice. "His… _mark_ hasn't healed yet."

He nodded slowly. "Likely it won't until he reaches majority in June. Certain magicks are not meant to be performed on underage wizards."

Her face crinkled in anguish, and she pulled her feet onto the couch. Resting her head on her knees, she realized that Snape was absolutely right. Had she been in Draco's position, with her parents' lives under threat, she, too, would have taken the mark. She would have done whatever she could to keep them alive even if it meant betraying her friends and living with constant pain. She blew out a long breath with the knowledge that Draco Malfoy was just as helpless as she was.

_More so, even. At least I have someone on my side_. She sniffled and wiped away the tears that were beginning to form. "He thought that I was spying on him, not Harry."

Snape looked to her in surprise. "Whatever for?"

"That's what I asked," she said, leaning against the back of the sofa. "He just told me to tell You-Know-Who that he was going to do what he had been commanded to do."

"He has an assignment?"

The witch shrugged. "I would assume so. You didn't know?"

He shook his head and ran one hand through his hair. "I will need to alert the Headmaster to this. Did he say anything else?"

"No, he just gave me back my wand and left." She sighed loudly. "I imagine that was when Remus showed up."

Severus nodded and glanced at the time. Dumbledore would likely remain at supper for another half hour, and it would be better to wait until he was in his office to present him with the new information. Exhaling loudly, he looked back to the girl curling into the corner of his sofa. It had surprised him to hear that Hermione had fled to the sanctuary of his quarters after leaving the Great Hall. She was undeniably angry with him, and yet she had purposely sought out his personal space. He did not understand it.

"Miss Granger," he started slowly, watching her close her eyes. "Why are you here?"

The girl gave no verbal response, but her thoughts formed clearly in his head. His rooms were safe. She wanted to be safe.

The wizard had a pained expression as he crossed in front of her and gracefully took a seat beside her. "Why is it you feel safer here than in your own dormitory?"

Hermione gave a slight gasp, knowing that he was listening to her thoughts. Feeling remarkably guilty, Snape immediately _Silencio-_ed the connection and rested his hands in his lap.

"Tell me only what you wish."

She looked up at him for the first time in several minutes. "You're not…"

"No," he answered.

Taking in a steadying breath, she moved her gaze to the empty fireplace and rested her chin on her knees. "I don't know why exactly. I think because you brought me here after…facing him. And because…well, no one would think to look for me here, would they? They could find me at home, or in Gryffindor Tower, or in the library; but they wouldn't find me here."

It was a logical conclusion. Severus glanced down at his hands. _Leave it to Hermione Granger to be logical even under emotional duress. _

The quiet sound of crying pulled his eyes back towards the girl. "What is it?"

"I just…" she closed her eyelids and blew out a shuddering breath. "I couldn't stop it. He only wanted to talk, and I… I thought he was going to… I don't know what I thought exactly, but when he grabbed me, I couldn't think of anything else but the need to get away, and I couldn't. I couldn't apparate; I didn't have my wand; no one would hear me; and my head was so screwed up I couldn't focus enough to call you. I felt…"

"Helpless?" he suggested when she trailed off into silence.

Hermione nodded slowly against her knee. "And then when Draco said you told him… You promised to be honest with me, but you didn't tell me."

Snape leaned his head back against the couch. "I am sorry, Hermione. I did not mean to upset you."

"Does anyone else know? Did you tell anyone else?"

"No," he shook his head and looked at her. "I would not have informed Mr. Malfoy if I did not believe it would aid in your protection."

The girl met his eyes and let out a small sigh. To his astonishment, she scooted towards him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I feel safe here because I know you can protect me here."

The wizard arched his brow and, upon noticing her awkward positioning, shifted so that her head was at a better angle. He inhaled sharply when she responded by drawing even closer and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry, sir," she breathed into his robes. "Please don't be angry with me."

His eyes widened, and he pulled away to look at her. "What on Earth are you mumbling about?"

"Even with everything you've done, I can't fully get over that night. You tried to teach me how to overcome it, but I'm not strong enough. I still dream about it some nights and at other times someone will do or say something, and all of these memories come sailing back and I have to fight so hard to stay in control. I fight to forget what I thought about you, and it isn't fair because you're just as much a victim in this as I am."

"Hermione, don't be ridiculous." He tilted up her chin and fiercely held her gaze. "There is nothing for which you need to apologize. What you're experiencing is not weakness – it's expected. Occlumency is meant to shield your mind from outside intrusion, not from what is already there. You can shut down emotions temporarily, but you will have to face them eventually. The nightmares will not disappear simply because you wish them to. They will occur with less frequency, yes, but will probably never leave you. You will have to take my word on that."

She swallowed back tears and nodded slowly. "I'm just so sick of feeling like this."

"Like what?"

"Like I'll never be normal again. Everyone else has normal issues, and I'm stuck with this horrible secret. I can't be normal, because it's not an option anymore. I'm so tired trying to keep up with everything, and sometimes I'd rather not deal with their stupid problems."

Severus sighed rubbed the side of his face, realizing that maybe Lupin had been right. "Do you want to discontinue our lessons?"

"No!" she blurted out loudly, grabbing hold of his arm. "Please don't take those away from me."

He cleared his throat. "I will not, if that is what you wish. I only want you to know that you have the choice."

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him again. He held her for a few minutes until his need to know overwhelmed him.

"Miss Granger, the other night – was there a reason behind your increased ardor?"

She felt her bottom lip quiver slightly as she squeezed him tighter. A few moments passed in strange silence, before she hesitantly explained. "You've done so much for me, and I just wanted to do something for you. I just…wanted you to know how grateful I am."

His mouth parted in shock. He had never considered that possibility, and frankly, a piece of him wished it had been something else.

"Hermione," he said softly once he had regained his senses. He grabbed hold of her arms and pushed her back far enough to look deeply into her eyes. "You owe me nothing."

"But –"

"No, listen to me," he said, shaking her gently. "You do _not_ owe me _anything_. Do not push yourself beyond your own comfort to try to appease me. I require no payment of any kind for my services. I have already taken more from you than I can ever give. Do you understand me?"

She nodded emphatically as tears formed in her eyes again. Without warning, she latched herself onto him and buried her face alongside his neck. Severus let out a long sigh and slipped his arms about her in a supportive embrace. He rested his chin against her forehead, and listened to her breathing for several minutes before closing his eyes.

When he opened them again, he noticed that the clock had advanced nearly two hours. Groaning softly, he slipped out from beneath the sleeping girl and laid her gently onto the sofa cushion. Silently crossing over the fireplace, he lit a small fire, and grabbed a pinch of floo powder. He would discuss the matter of Malfoy's assignment with the Headmaster, and then return to wake Hermione up before her scheduled rounds.

**X**

As the entire student body made their way out to the Quidditch pitch that Saturday, Hermione glanced behind her and noticed that Draco was walking by himself. She wondered briefly where Crabbe and Goyle were, before focusing her attention on the expression on the blonde's face. His features were pinched in a harsher arrangement than usual, and his haughty air was startlingly absent. As she noticed the sad look in his eyes, she sighed and turned her head back towards the pitch.

She startled slightly when Ginny slipped her arm through hers.

"Can I sit with you?"

Hermione pushed thoughts about Draco out of her mind and looked at her friend in surprise. "What about Dean?"

"I promised him all of tomorrow," the redhead grinned. "I have a job to do today. I can't afford to be distracted."

"Oh?"

"Hufflepuff has three new players, and I've heard they're the ones to beat," Ginny explained.

"Hufflepuff?" Hermione smirked. "Seriously?"

"Hard to believe, I know. But Katie doesn't want to take any chances, so she wants us all to pay complete attention to their formations. Harry's probably only going to be watching the Seeker – but really, there isn't that much strategy involved in Seeking as in Chasing – but then again, it is Cho, so…"

"Harry doesn't really fancy her anymore actually," she mentioned off-handedly as they began climbing the old, wooden stairs to the Gryffindor stands.

"Really? I just assumed he did," Ginny frowned briefly before sighing. "Anyway, I doubt Ron will even show up, so I'm paying attention for three."

The older girl laughed slightly. "Ron's not coming?"

"Doubt it," Ginny grumbled. "I saw him pulling Lav-lav – I like the nickname, by the way – up the staircase to the boy's dorm before I left."

Hermione winced and looked away.

"I swear – if he sprogs her up, I'm coming to live with you. I don't want to be anywhere near Mum after she finds out."

"Merlin," the brunette sighed as they found seats halfway up the stands. That was definitely something she did not want to think about…ever.

"You-Know-Who will have nothing on the absolute carnage there'll be at the Burrow, that's for sure."

Grimacing, Hermione gave no verbal response, and was thankful for Madam Hooch's whistle. With the match officially starting, she had no real need to converse with her roommate.

"Hey!" Harry greeted, panting after having sprinted up the steps. He plopped down next to Hermione and blushed slightly at Ginny. He leaned close and whispered, "No Dean?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile and waited until the redhead was too focused on the game to eavesdrop. "Only for the match. Sorry."

He shrugged and then glanced around the stands. "Where's Ron?"

She groaned loudly and slumped in her seat.

"I take it that means he's with Lavvy-poo."

A round of giggles erupted from Ginny as she glanced over Hermione's head. "That's absolutely brilliant, Harry! I'm going to use that when I write Fred and George!"

Harry gave her an awkward grin and turned back to the match before he made a complete fool of himself.

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms sullenly. There was a Transfiguration essay she could be writing instead of sitting between the two of them, watching a game of which she did not really care who won. If only Snape were not already sitting with the rest of the staff, they could have had an impromptu lesson. She really wanted to take out her frustration on something, and dueling practice would have been a blessing.

A throat clearing pulled her out of her self-pity.

"I was wondering about something, Hermione."

She looked to Harry and raised her brow expectantly.

"In Defense, you're really good at non-verbals," he stated. "I was curious how you did it."

She bit her lip and shrugged. "Practice, I guess."

"Do you think you could help me a bit?"

"Erm, well…"

"You helped out Neville," he pointed out. "You saw us in class yesterday – he literally trounced me!"

The girl frowned slightly. "If you're going to insult Neville, I'm out."

He shook his head. "I'm not. I just think I should brush up a bit considering….well…you know."

Hermione blew out a deep breath and nodded. "Can I think about it? I only helped Neville in class, and all I did really was work on boosting his confidence. If you want to work outside of lessons, then I have to figure out when I have time in my schedule."

"Oh, yeah," he nodded happily. "Definitely. I'm sure you're just as busy as I am, since I hardly see you outside of meals and class during the week."

She twisted the ring on her finger. "It's certainly not as easy as it used to be."

"It used to be easy?" he mocked. "What school did _you_ go to?"

The girl laughed and playfully elbowed him in the side. "Fair point."

"If it helps, you can rule out Mondays and Thursdays for Quidditch, and sometimes I meet with Professor Dumbledore on the weekends."

"Oh?" she asked, downplaying her interest by following one of the Ravenclaw chasers with her eyes. "What do you then?"

He looked around the stands and then shrugged. "Talk mainly. But I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. Not even you or Ron."

"I understand." Hermione internally groaned at the non-information. She was not really good at wheedling answers out of people, and she desperately wished she could leave the spying entirely up to Snape. But who knew how long she had before Voldemort summoned her again, looking for an answer?

She shivered at the thought and glanced across the pitch at the Slytherin Head. He had agreed that she did not need to figure out what Dumbledore was doing with him, as long as she knew something that they were not doing. So what could possibly be believable?

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

Hermione looked up at Ginny in surprise and quirked a small smile. "You know it's not actually our team out there, right?"

"What?" the girl asked, glancing down from where she had suddenly stood. "Oh, yeah. I know. But that should have been an easy block!"

The brunette shook her head amusedly and leaned her elbows on her knees.

"Use your head, Parsons!" Ginny shouted. "Geez!"

Hermione's eyes widened suddenly. _Occlumency. The Dark Lord would buy that, wouldn't he?_

Surreptitiously, she cast a _Muffliato_ over herself and Harry, who looked up in surprise.

"Harry, have you been practicing your Occlumency?"

The boy sagged slightly. "Hermione, just let it go. Snape said I was fine."

"It's Professor Snape, and since when have you ever followed his advice?"

He rolled his eyes and looked curiously at the Gryffindors sitting around them. "They can't hear us, can they?"

"No," she answered. "And you're avoiding my question."

"And I'm going to keep avoiding it, because it doesn't matter anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

Harry shook his head. "Let it go, Hermione."

"But—"

"Hermione, I stopped prying into your life because you asked me to. I'm asking you to let this go."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine."

As she cancelled the silencing charm, Harry flitted his eyes around them as though he could see the spell melting away. "You seriously need to teach me that one."

The girl nodded in quiet assent and let her eyes glaze over as she watched the blue and yellow robes zip past them. Her mind was working overtime, and there were only two things of which she was immediately sure. Firstly, she knew without a doubt that Harry and Dumbledore were not working on Occlumency, and secondly, she knew she needed to tell Snape everything she had just learned.

**X**

Hermione frowned as she walked into the Great Hall for supper the following evening. The seat in between Professors McGonagall and Lupin was empty yet again. Snape had been absent the entire day.

She had meant to speak with him the night before, but had changed her mind after spotting Remus following him down the dungeon stairs. Instead, she had decided to catch his attention before breakfast and, as a result, had been the first student seated at her table, and the last to leave. But Snape had never shown. The same had held true for lunch, and when she had ventured down to the dungeons under the pretense of asking him a question regarding something she had read for her essay, she had found his office vacant.

And he was still gone.

She glanced at Dumbledore, looking for any hint of trouble, but the old man's expression was no different than usual. Then again, even after Snape had brought her back bloodied and beaten, the Headmaster had betrayed little emotion.

Now that she thought about it, Dumbledore actually hid his thoughts better than Snape did. Instead of cold impassivity, though, he masked himself in twinkling congeniality. He always played the doddering grandfather card, but _that_ could not be the _real_ Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort would never be afraid of someone you could find wandering about the dayroom of a nursing home.

_And that would make him all the more the threat_, she realized. Snape acted like an unsavory individual, because that was what people were supposed to believe. No one would trust him with sensitive information, which meant that no one would bat an eye if he could not deliver it. It was a method of self-preservation, as well as a subtle layer of protection for those around him.

But Dumbledore was different – the opposite even. He acted like someone you could trust with your most valued secrets. She herself had claimed to trust him with her life. It was all a ruse, though, wasn't it? People were supposed to believe him trustworthy, so he could garner their information and utilizing it for whatever was needed. People trusted him, so they would never suspect that he was using them – never suspect that he was spying on them.

She knew differently, though. She even suspected that if Professor Snape were in the midst of a torture session, the Headmaster would still likely chuckle at some student shenanigan or other. How could she not when after she and Snape had been through undoubtedly the worst scenario of their lives, he had still possessed the audacity to offer them a lemon drop like they were there for advice on their class schedules.

Three months ago she had trusted him unquestionably. Today, however, she knew where her loyalties lay – and it was not with the Head of the Order. It was with an empty seat.

A lump settled in the bottom of her stomach and she glanced desperately towards her Head of House. The elder witch was chatting amiably with Remus and Professor Sprout. She did not seem to have any concerns over her missing colleague, and Hermione knew at least her expression was genuine. She had seen the look on McGonagall's face when she knew that Snape had been summoned – there was no questioning the fear and anxiety the witch had felt.

But who was to say that McGonagall always knew when Snape was summoned? She could be just as blissfully unaware as the rest of the school as to his extracurricular obligations.

Hermione suddenly was not hungry anymore. She did not want to sit through another round of 'Ron loves Lavender' or 'Harry stares glumly at Ginny while she makes eyes at Dean.' She wanted to know that Snape was safe. She wanted to know where he was.

Biting down on her lip, she slipped out of the Great Hall and paused briefly in the main corridor. If he had been summoned, he would have to use the apparition point beyond the front gates. If he were out on other business, he would probably use the secret tunnel. Either way he would eventually return to his quarters.

Blowing out a long breath, she quickly made her way up the steps.

**X**

It was well after dark when Severus appeared at the castle gates. As he pushed open the heavy metal bars, he barely managed to suppress a yawn. His eyelids were heavy after a full day of travelling, and he had much preferred the flat walk down the gravel drive to the several flights of stairs that separated the tunnel entrance and his quarters.

By the time he managed to make it to his painted door, he was absolutely exhausted. As he shut the door behind him, he wiped a hand over his weary face and hoped that the annoying house elf would leave without groveling too loudly.

"Dob –"

Snape paused when he noticed a fire was lit in his fireplace. He never left a fire going when he was not there. There was a charm on the castle preventing any possibilities of accidental fires, but it was a precaution hardwired into him from his Muggle upbringing.

Someone had been in his quarters. Albus and Minerva were the only ones officially allowed access to his rooms due to their rank, but for some reason the castle had deemed Miss Granger worthy of entrance. _That_ was still something he had to figure out, he realized as he slowly crept through his empty sitting room.

Pushing open his bedroom door, he narrowed his eyes slightly as he took in the form sleeping on his bed. Her arms were wrapped around his pillow, holding it tight to her chest, and her hair was splayed haphazardly over her face.

He sighed quietly and rubbed his forehead before stepping over to the bed. With a cautious hand, he pushed the curls out of her face.

Hermione's eyes snapped open at his touch and, at registering his face, she launched off of the bed and attached herself to him.

"Granger," he gasped in surprise, "what is wrong with you?"

"I was so worried about you," she answered into his chest. "I didn't know where you were."

Severus frowned and tapped her deliberately on the head. "You could have asked."

The girl shook her head and pulled away from him. "I didn't want to distract you if you were…in trouble."

He gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. "I was perfectly fine."

"You were gone all day!"

"Am I not allowed a personal day?" he sneered, crossing his arms. "You could have asked Professor McGonagall. She was fully aware I would be out of the castle."

"She was?" Hermione asked slowly, before a contemplative look appeared on her face. "You trust her, don't you?"

The wizard narrowed his gaze and tilted his head. "Exactly from where does that question stem?"

She sighed and sank back against the mattress. "Let's just say I've recently had a reevaluation of convictions."

"And that means…"

"In the beginning – when you first figured out I was occluding you – you weren't entirely being hypothetical when you suggested that Dumbledore was using me to spy on you, were you?" When he did not answer right away, she folded her arms across her chest. "I would appreciate your sincerity."

Snape let out a long breath and looked out the window. "Not entirely hypothetical, no."

"If you were to ask me if I trust him now," she responded carefully, "I would give you a resounding no."

He snapped his gaze back to her face. "What happened?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was just a lot of little things coming together, but I had a chat with Harry yesterday. I think he's using him."

"Oh, you do, do you?" He snorted and perched against the small bookshelf beneath the window. "And what led you to this startling revelation?"

"I asked Harry about his meetings with Dumbledore, and he said he couldn't tell anyone about them."

"I thought we knew that already," Severus stated blandly.

"Yes, but I'm not finished yet. I thought maybe we could – or I could, rather – tell the Dark…erm, You-Know-Who that they were working on his Occlumency during their sessions. But I remembered that you told me to make sure that whatever I used was definitely not what they were doing. So when I asked him, he completely brushed me off and said that he didn't need to because you had told him he was doing perfectly fine on his own –"

"He said _what_?" The dark-haired wizard widened his eyes angrily. "If by 'perfectly fine' means leaving a bloody welcome mat out for visitors, then yes – he's doing exceptionally well. I'm sure his flea-ridden godfather can attest to that."

The girl rolled her eyes. "I didn't say I believed him, but that's what he tried to sell us last year after you stopped your lessons with him. I didn't believe him then, and I sure as hell don't believe him now – especially with what happened at the Ministry."

A pained look washed over the man's face as he remembered the fiasco that was Occlumency lessons with Potter. "And this relates to the Headmaster how?"

Hermione took in a deep breath. "I kept pressing Harry on it, and he got a bit upset and told me to let it go because it didn't matter anymore."

Snape pulled his eyebrows together in confusion. "It doesn't _matter_ anymore?"

"That's exactly what he said," she nodded. "And I can't help but think that it has something to do with what he's doing with Dumbledore. That maybe Dumbledore is encouraging him not to practice it."

The Potions Master sighed and rubbed his temples. "You realize none of this actually makes sense."

"I know. That's why I needed to talk to you about it." She fiddled with the sleeves of her jumper for a few minutes before speaking again. "I think maybe there's a reason why Dumbledore doesn't want you to know about their meetings. A reason besides it being too much of a risk in your head, which I think is far-fetched anyway. You're probably the greatest Occlumens in the Wizarding World. If you can't keep a secret, we're all screwed."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Granger."

"Nowhere with you perhaps," she smirked. "It seems to get you pretty far with the Dark Lord, though."

Severus shifted in discomfort and stared at the door. "You should be in bed."

The girl sighed. "I thought I was."

"Your own bed," he clarified with a pointed look in her direction. "Your roommates are bound to notice your repeated absences."

She nodded and slowly stood up from the bed. "In the future, when you take a personal day, would you tell me? So I don't spend the day developing an ulcer?"

He gave a nod and then cleared his throat as he slipped an envelope from his robes. "This is for you."

Hermione glanced at it in surprise and gingerly took it from him. She looked down at her name and felt her hand begin to shake as she recognized her mother's handwriting.

**X**

An hour later, Hermione lay curled up in her bed in Gryffindor Tower, fingering the amethyst pendant around her neck. The already wrinkled letter from her parents was placed beneath her pillow for safekeeping, and a small smile crept on her face, knowing that Snape's so-called personal day had been partly spent delivering her message.

There was enough on her mind, worrying about Harry and Dumbledore and Voldemort, that it was a relief to know that her parents were safe and well. They had written her their love and support, and stated that they were praying every day for an end to the turmoil so the three of them could be together again. They had claimed that there was nothing for them to forgive, as nothing that had happened had been her fault.

Hermione blew out a long breath and rolled onto her back to stare up at the canopy of her bed. Her parents were taken care of, and Snape was doing the best he could to protect her. Harry, on the other hand, had his faith in someone who was working with an ulterior motive. Harry needed someone to protect him, even if he did not know it yet.

As she closed her eyes, she knew that she had to do whatever she could to help him, despite any complications it may mean for herself.


	39. Making Preparations

**A/N: Guess what! I'm still alive! Ha ha. Thanks to all of you who sent me messages of concern. I was pleasantly touched and appropriately shamed. It's been a busy, chaotic end of the summer - believe me! Got the family vacation done, the end of summer work wrap-up, and all the prep for back to school. School starting now - so classes and roommate drama and grad school app and research and all the other stuff will make my update time suffer. But I will promise to continue long chapters!  
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**Thanks to all of you! I promise I have read all of your reviews and PMs and emails! I love you all, and am posting this quickly before I jump into bed and get about 5 hours of sleep for my first full day of classes, which will start bright and ungodly early tomorrow morning.  
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**For those of you reading Rumored in Love - I will work on that update next, but it may not be this week. Grad school essays are due.  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 39**

Severus purposely rushed his first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs through their instructions with the hope that they would finish their brewing ahead of schedule. When the lone pair of students remaining in the room looked as though they would still take the entire time allotted to the class, however, he frowned and quickly decided upon a suitable contingency plan. He sat at his desk, surreptitiously watching them and waiting for an appropriate opportunity to present itself. Eventually one of them dropped a metal lid, distracting his partner long enough for the professor to send a silent stinging hex into the cauldron.

As the girl turned back to the brew a second later, her eyes widened at the sudden, irritated bubbling. She hurriedly slapped at her partner's arm, and pointed desperately at it. The boy gulped nervously, and they both quickly backed away from the cauldron.

"P-prof-fess-sor?"

Donning a dark scowl, he raised his head and let his eyes follow the student's quivering pointer finger. In a flash, he rose from his desk, folding his arms as he descended upon them. With a sneer, he peered into the pulsating orange mess. He quickly vanished the brew before it had a chance to simmer back to its normal quiet state, and then glared at the pair.

"How many times must I tell you to pay attention?" he shouted.

"Sorry, Professor," the girl paled, dropping her gaze to the floor.

Her partner's shoulders slumped. "We only looked away from it for a second, sir, I swear."

"Indeed." He inhaled deeply and fixed them both with a pointed stare. "This will not happen again; do you understand?"

"Y-yessir," they stammered in unison.

"Now get out."

Immediately the two students scrambled to pack up their personal potion kits. Grateful as they were for not losing any House points, they wasted no time in making a beeline for the door. Snape waited approximately twenty seconds before sweeping out of the room himself. He quickly made his way through the castle until he reached the stone gargoyle at the foot of the Headmaster's tower.

"Fizzing Whizbees," he spat with a roll of his eyes. As the gargoyle sprung aside, he took in a deep breath and schooled his features before ascending the stairs.

"Ah, Severus!" Dumbledore called out as the younger professor pushed open the office door. "You are out of class early this morning."

Snape sensed the hidden question in the observation and gave a small nod. "For once, it seems, the students were able to complete their attempts within the actual time predicted within the manual."

"Surprising, isn't it, what the young can do when they put their minds to it?" the Headmaster beamed.

"Indubitably," he scoffed, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the open pensieve cabinet. Taking in a deep breath, he immediately fixed his gaze back to the elder wizard.

"Is there something I can do for you, Severus?"

The Potions Master shifted in contrived discomfort and sighed. "I am here merely on the behalf of Miss Granger."

"Ah," the old man twinkled. "How is Miss Granger?"

"Entirely too grateful," he muttered blandly.

Albus chuckled and sat down in his seat. "And what is it that she would like from me?"

"Nothing from _you_, per se." Severus waited a few seconds and set his hand on top of one of the armchairs. "She is…_concerned_ about Potter."

"As is to be expected between friends, my boy," the elder smiled, placing his hands in his lap. "What are the natures of her concerns?"

He sighed and looked to the ceiling. "She is concerned that the boy has not been keeping up with his Occlumency practice on his own."

"I think it speaks volumes that the girl was brave enough to come to you regarding this," Dumbledore spoke softly. "And that you were in turn willing to relay it to me."

Snape gave him a characteristic look of annoyance in response as he recognized the stalling tactic.

With a tight smile, the Headmaster leaned back in his chair. "Miss Granger may rest assured that the matter is being seen to."

Raising an eyebrow, the younger man moved to cross his arms. "You are taking on the boy's lessons yourself?"

He gave half a nod and rested his hands on the gilded armrests of his chair. "I recognize now that you were right. I should not have underestimated your history with the boy, Severus, and for that I am sorry. I will not ask it of you again. I should not have asked it of you at all."

The spy let out an uncomfortable sigh and let his eyes drift to the top of the chair. "I will pass along your assurances to the girl."

As he turned to leave, the other wizard cleared his throat. "Severus, regarding the matter of the young Mr. Malfoy…"

Snape shook his head. "I have not yet discovered the premise of his mission."

The Headmaster nodded solemnly. "I trust you will do your best."

Without a further word, the Slytherin Head strode out of the room and all but slid down the circular staircase. As the gargoyle returned to its sentry point, the man let out a long sigh and ran a hand through his hair. Albus bloody Dumbledore had actually apologized to him.

And that could only mean one thing – Hermione's suspicions were almost certainly spot on.

**XxXxX**

Hermione gave McGonagall a cheerful greeting before tossing in a pinch of floo powder and whirling into Snape's office. She looked up to see him hauling out his pensieve from its cupboard.

"Does this mean we're going ahead with my suggestion?"

He gave a grunt and a nod of his head.

"So you believe me?" she pressed, biting down on her lip as she waited for his response.

Snape cleared his throat as he set the metal bowl on his desk. "It would appear that your suspicions hold some merit."

"They do?" she asked, raising her eyebrows as she stepped towards her armchair. "How do you know that?"

He sighed and ran one hand through his hair. "I had a rather brief conversation with the Headmaster this morning regarding your concerns."

"You _told_ him that I thought he was discouraging Harry's practice?" the girl stammered in a panicked tone.

Severus fixed her with a dark stare. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Then what _did_ you tell him?"

He took in a deep breath and folded his arms to his chest. "I simply mentioned that you thought Potter should be continuing with his lessons."

Hermione widened her eyes in disbelief. "And he straight-out told you –"

"Granger," he interrupted in a cutting tone. "In all of the time that you've known the man, has he ever straight-out told anyone anything?"

A sheepish blush appeared on her cheeks and she scratched her temple. "That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

"Obviously." He smirked slightly and straightened a stack of essays on his desk. After a few seconds, he exhaled loudly and shook his head. "The only way to get any information out of Albus Dumbledore is to out-manipulate the great manipulator."

She gave a small smile as she crossed around the chair and took her seat. "I didn't know that was even possible."

Snape raised his brow in agreement. "Likely it won't be again. I have undoubtedly just used my one free pass when it comes to wheedling intelligence directly from the Headmaster. I may have fooled him once, but he does tend to catch on to patterns rather effortlessly. In that regard, Granger, you had better hope you're right."

An uncertain grimace washed across her countenance as she leaned back in her chair. "But what happens if there's a bigger crisis down the road? I didn't mean for you to waste your one shot."

"If you are correct in your suspicions, and he's purposely leaving Potter vulnerable to the Dark Lord's intrusions; it was not wasted," he countered before sighing. "The Headmaster is certainly _not_ continuing his lessons, which is something the Dark Lord must never discover if Potter is to have any chance of keeping his mind intact."

"Dumbledore has to know that, right?" Her eyebrows narrowed, and she crossed her arms. "He has to know the consequences, doesn't he?"

"Of course he does."

"Then why?" she scowled bitterly. "What could possibly be gained by risking Harry like that?"

"I have no idea." He exhaled loudly and collapsed into his seat. "The only thing we can do is offer Potter a layer of protection by keeping the Dark Lord informed as to his progress in Occlumency. The Headmaster may be relying solely on the fact that the Dark Lord did not particularly enjoy his last possession of Potter's mind, which is true… _at the moment_. Were he to find out, however, that Potter was leaving himself open, it would be too great a temptation to not peek in the window. As such, we must make sure to keep that particular morsel of knowledge from ever seeing the light of day."

Hermione let out a long, slow breath and pulled her feet up onto the chair. "Should I keep on Harry about practicing then?"

The wizard shook his head. "Let it be for now. The Headmaster is under the impression that I have delivered to you the same ridiculous message that he gave me – that the matter is 'being seen to.' It would not behoove us to broadcast that we think otherwise. Potter's mental shields were pathetic even when he was practicing."

"Well, we can't all be an innate Occlumens," she muttered defensively.

"Clearly not." He eyed her briefly before resting his elbows on his armrests and steepling his fingers. "Now then, since the Dark Lord functions only on his own time, I feel it would be beneficial to begin practicing your false memory without further delay."

She nodded her head in response, but chewed on her lip nervously as she thought of being summoned again. It had been nearly a month since she had been forced in front of him, and it was likely he could call for her at any time in the near future. Squeezing her eyes shut, she shivered at the memories of the dark clearing. Her next few breaths shook as she recalled the amount of pain she had been in following the past two encounters with the evil wizard, and she swallowed in anxiety as she realized how much worse it would be if her falsities were to be discovered. If he summoned within the matter of a few days, she doubted that her fabricated images would even work.

_He'll know that I'm lying, and then –_

"Granger."

Her eyes flashed open at his demanding tone, and she immediately noticed the concerned look upon his face.

"Focus on what needs to be done; not on what _could_ occur," he stated pointedly.

"Sorry," the girl mumbled, wrapping her arms about her waist. A second or two later she cleared her throat. "Any suggestions as to where to begin?"

"Build upon reality," Severus responded thoughtfully. "It is much easier to take a true memory and manipulate it than it is to fabricate the entirety of a scenario."

She blew out a soft sigh and closed her eyes as she searched for an adequate memory to utilize. After a few minutes she settled on the actual conversation that had launched all of her recent suspicions.

"Have you located a suitable start yet?" he asked, noticing that she had cocked her head in consideration.

Hermione nodded slowly as she opened her eyes. "I believe so."

The man gave a quick nod and rose from his chair. He stepped around the side of his desk, and held out his wand as he stopped in front of her. She leaned forward as he instructed her to do and pinched her eyes shut as the tip of his wand came to rest gently at her temple.

"Push it forward," he directed quietly.

The now familiar feeling of an extraction soon followed, and the girl hesitantly cracked open one eyelid to see his face frozen in intense concentration as he slowly inched his wand away from her. Finding it suddenly disconcerting to view the shimmery strand being pulled from her head, she immediately reclosed her eye and focused solely on projecting the images. After a few more seconds, she felt the sensation cease and she threw open her eyes just in time for him to release the last of the strand into the rippling pensieve.

"Now what?" she whispered, finding herself unable to remove her eyes from the metal bowl.

Snape rolled his shoulders as he slipped his wand into his sleeve. "Now you are going to edit the image. You need to make note of everything that needs to be removed and figure out how to fill the gaps and stitch together the pieces."

The young witch inhaled sharply and glanced up at him in alarm. "You are going to help me, aren't you?"

He let out an exasperated breath as he raised his eyebrows. "Do you think I would allow you to risk the safety of the wizarding world when I could possibly prevent it? If you think you're going to fool the Dark Lord without my assistance, you are a bigger fool than Mister Crabbe, Mister Goyle, and Miss Brown combined!"

As the corners of her mouth twitched into the hint of a smile, she rose out of her chair and stepped over to the desk. "You don't really think I'm that big of an idiot, do you?"

"There have been moments," he muttered before snapping his fingers toward the bowl.

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes as she lowered her face towards the surface of the liquid. She felt the smooth coolness a fraction of a second before she was tugged into the swirling strands. With a hard plop, her bottom landed in the wooden bleachers just a row behind her memory self and Ginny. She jumped slightly a second later when the Potions Master dropped gracefully beside her.

He glanced around in disbelief before turning to her in censure. "You're going to conduct your conversation in the midst of a Quidditch match?"

"Well, I did it once already," she mumbled, letting her gaze settle on the group of Gryffindors in front of her.

Severus made a grumbling noise as he looked up in disdain at the incoming Boy-Who-Lived.

_"Hey!" _Harry panted as he plopped beside her and glanced at Ginny, blushing slightly. He leaned close and whispered,_ "No Dean?"_

_"Only for the match. Sorry."_

The boy shrugged and then glanced around the stands_. "Where's Ron?"_

A loud groan emanated from the memory-Hermione.

_"I take it that means he's with Lavvy-poo."_

A round of giggles erupted from Ginny as she glanced over Hermione's head_. "That's absolutely brilliant, Harry! I'm going to use that when I write Fred and George!"_

Harry gave her an awkward grin and turned back to the match.

"I hope you redeem yourself soon," Snape sputtered, folding his arms against his chest. "As amusing as I have found this _not_ to be, you will not use anything that has just occurred when you present it to the Dark Lord."

She chanced a look at him. "What do you mean? This is where the conversation started, so it seemed like a natural starting point. It's not like it's terribly dangerous information –"

A dark look immediately crossed his countenance. "Granger! I can't think of anything more dangerous!"

"What?"

He huffed loudly and gestured impatiently between Harry and Ginny. "Anyone with half a brain cell could see that Potter is enamored by Miss Weasley. The Dark Lord is forever looking for targets – it's a bloody pastime for him! You show him any of that, and you'll be presenting her to him on a silver platter."

Hermione winced and then covered her face with her hands as she flushed in shame. "Oh God. I should have thought of that!"

"Yes, you should have," he agreed. "There's a reason why I had you hide certain other memories pertaining to Potter's romantic interests. The Dark Lord has had a taste of what happens when the boy loses someone he cares for, and you can be damn sure that he will do whatever he can to make it occur again."

The wizard sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You need to start thinking more critically on your own, Granger. I cannot possibly go through every object in your head before each time you're required to prove your worth. I have my own head to scour for the same reason."

She blew out an embarrassed breath and nodded. Her impending apology, however, was cut off by the sound of a throat clearing.

_"I was wondering about something, Hermione."_

The witch watched Snape out of the corner of her eye as they waited for Harry to continue.

_"In Defense, you're really good at non-verbals. I was curious how you did it."_

_"Practice, I guess."_

The Slytherin Head snorted suddenly and shifted in his seat.

_"Do you think you could help me a bit?"_

_"Erm, well…"_

_"You helped out Neville. You saw us in class yesterday – he literally trounced me!"_

Hermione frowned slightly at the smirk that had appeared on the man's face.

_"If you're going to insult Neville, I'm out."_

Harry shook his head. _"I'm not. I just think I should brush up a bit considering….well…you know."_

The memory-Hermione blew out a deep breath and nodded. _"Can I think about it? I only helped Neville in class, and all I did really was work on boosting his confidence. If you want to work outside of lessons, then I have to figure out when I have time in my schedule."_

_"Oh, yeah,"_ he nodded happily. _"Definitely. I'm sure you're just as busy as I am, since I hardly see you outside of meals and class during the week."_

_"It's certainly not as easy as it used to be."_

_"It used to be easy? What school did _you_ go to?"_

The girl laughed and playfully elbowed him in the side. _"Fair point."_

_"If it helps, you can rule out Mondays and Thursdays for Quidditch, and sometimes I meet with Professor Dumbledore on the weekends."_

_"Oh?"_ she asked blandly, her eyes cemented firmly on the match. _"What do you do then?" _

The boy looked around the stands and then shrugged. _"Talk mainly. But I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. Not even you or Ron."_

_"I understand."_

Hermione noticed that Snape was frowning slightly as the memory played out around him. He did not seem to be particularly angry about anything, but was instead concentrating intensely.

_"Oh, for fuck's sake!"_

She jumped visibly even though she should have been expecting the outburst from her friend.

_"You know it's not actually our team out there, right?"_

_"What?"_ Ginny asked, glancing down from where she had suddenly stood. _ "Oh, yeah. I know. But that should have been an easy block!"_

_"Use your head, Parsons! Geez!"_

As the light dawned in her memory self's head, Hermione peeked at the man beside her. She could see his jaw muscle tighten when she cast the _Muffliato_.

_"Harry, have you been practicing your Occlumency?"_

_"Hermione, just let it go. Snape said I was fine."_

The wizard's face immediately shifted into a deep scowl as he began muttering unintelligibly beneath his breath. She thought she caught the phrase 'inept little shit,' but she could not be quite sure.

_"It's Professor Snape, and since when have you ever followed his advice?"_

Severus rolled his eyes and snorted bitterly as the boy looked curiously around the stands.

"_They can't hear us, can they?"_

_"No. And you're avoiding my question."_

_"And I'm going to keep avoiding it, because it doesn't matter anymore."_

_"What does that mean?"_

_"Let it go, Hermione."_

_"But—"_

_"Hermione, I stopped prying into your life because you asked me to. I'm asking you to let this go."_

_"Fine."_

As the silencing charm was removed, Harry curiously looked about the air around them. _"You seriously need to teach me that one."_

Snape managed to huff noisily before the pensieve deposited them both in the present time and space.

The girl sighed and hesitantly slunk away from the bowl. She watched cautiously as the wizard began tapping his fingers on the desk. Eventually he sighed and spun to face her.

"It requires a great deal of work."

She bit her lip and slowly perched on the edge of her chair. "But you think it will do?"

The man ignored her question as he leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. "Eliminate the pathetic display of lovesick Potter. I don't care if the scene is set up naturally, because it never is when Legilimency is used. No mentions of your abilities in wordless magic. You've been exceptionally lucky that no Slytherins are enrolled in your Defense section, and that your remarkable improvement has not been noticed more than it has. I will not risk the Dark Lord discovering that I've been teaching you anything outside of regular Potions lessons."

Hermione blinked quickly and nodded as he continued with his assessment.

"You can keep the _Muffliato_, though," he muttered pensively. "The Dark Lord is aware of the spell's origin, of course, but I will likely be able to explain your knowing it as my giving you an aid in your assignment."

"Okay," she sighed nervously.

Severus poked two fingers into his temple as he mentally replayed the scene. "As for the rest of it, changing the dialogue will likely be sufficient."

"You think so?" Her eyes widened in shock. She had fully expected him to veto the entire recollection.

"If I did not think as such, I would not have said it," he chided, dropping his hand back to the desk. "That being said, there is a lot of work for you to do. I want you to have an attempt ready to be examined by tomorrow afternoon."

"But tomorrow is Tuesday."

He narrowed his gaze. "I am fully aware of what day of the week it is."

"I didn't say you weren't," she mumbled quietly. "It's just we don't normally meet on Tuesdays."

The wizard smirked briefly. "I will examine it during tomorrow's brewing session. Simple Legilimency does not require a pensieve… or privacy, for that matter."

"Oh," she grimaced slightly. "That makes sense."

"Indeed," he muttered, folding his arms again. "Now about you giving Potter lessons…"

"I haven't officially agreed to it yet," she stammered quickly. "I was going to ask you before I said anything to him, I swear. I just want to help him anyway I can."

"You don't think you're doing enough?" he asked.

Hermione sighed and scratched her eyebrow. "I know it's a lot, but I think I can do it. It would only be like an hour or two a week. He needs help. He can't do this on his own, and you know it. I know you do."

The Slytherin Head let out an irritated sigh but finally relented. "If you can ensure that no one untrustworthy finds out about it, then –"

"Thank you!" she cried, jumping towards him.

He held up his hands and shook his head. "I've had more than enough hugs this week, thank you. And these lessons are on a trial basis only. If I determine them to be too much of a risk, you _will_ cancel them. Are we clear?"

She nodded emphatically and let her arms drop to her sides.

"There are also a number of spells that I either have shown or will show you that _will_ _not_ find their way into Potter's repertoire," Snape stated, giving her a pointed look. "Is that understood?"

She nodded again. "I won't teach him anything you don't want him to know."

"And you will keep your eyes open to any possible threat," he continued. "Swear Potter to secrecy if you have to. For Merlin's sake, don't let Weasley know – any of them, for that matter. This stays amongst the three of us. No one else can know."

"Erm, what about Dumbledore?" the girl questioned, shifting on her feet. "I mean, if Harry's really as horrid at Occlumency as you make him out to be, he doesn't really stand a chance at hiding it from him."

He closed his eyes shut momentarily and tilted his head to the side. "That shouldn't be a problem if you can manage to not interrogate him during your lessons. If the Headmaster does have a problem with Potter improving his personal defenses, he cannot actually tell us so without tipping his hand again."

"Okay," she whispered, squeezing her shoulder. "What about Professor McGonagall?"

"If there is a reason for her to know, I will inform her at that time."

"Professor Lupin?"

"Absolutely not," he snarled.

Hermione gave a small nod and met his gaze. "So I can really do this then?"

The wizard eyed her critically for a long moment before slouching his shoulders and sighing. "It appears so."

She bit down on her lower lip and smiled oddly. "Thank you."

"You've never attempted to teach that boy," he sneered. "I seriously doubt whether you will be so grateful after you have."

**XxXxX**

As a group of Gryffindors made their way to supper the following evening, Hermione tugged on Harry's arm and gestured for him to slow his pace. When they were sufficiently far enough behind the others, she silently cast a _Muffliato_.

"What's the matter?" he asked curiously.

She cleared her throat softly. "Non-verbal lessons. Were you still interested?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Definitely."

"How do Friday evenings sound? Sometime after supper, but before my rounds at eleven."

"Sounds brilliant," Harry grinned. "Nine o'clock, perhaps. Room of Requirement?"

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Wouldn't consider anywhere else."

He snorted and scratched the back of his neck. "Starting this week?"

"If you would like," she nodded before chewing on her lip. "But you have to promise me something first, Harry."

He raised his eyebrow. "What is it?"

"You won't tell a soul about this," she instructed. "Not even Ron can know. Nor Remus. As far as anyone is concerned, you'll have been practicing it all on your own."

"Alright," the boy said slowly. "Our little secret, then?"

"Exactly."

Harry shook his head and sighed. "I don't think I've ever had to keep this many secrets in my entire life."

The girl snorted and wiped her face. "Tell me about it."

**XxXxX**

"Tomorrow marks two weeks," Hermione muttered as Snape finished extracting her third attempt at fabricating a memory. He had used Legilimency to view her other two tries during Tuesday's and Wednesday's potions lessons, offering as much feedback as he could mentally. Tonight, however, he had planned a more in-depth critique of the scene in his pensieve.

The man cleared his throat as he deposited the silvery strand into the liquid pool. "I am aware of that, yes."

"Don't you think we should schedule something then?" she pressed, biting her lip. "In case I have to use Professor McGonagall's floo?"

He sighed and put away his wand. "Considering you're dueling with Potter and have rounds tomorrow night; that seems out of the question. And I need the weekend to start the mutt's brew."

"The Wolfsbane?"

Severus nodded.

"Do you think I could watch sometime?" she queried hopefully.

He narrowed his eyes and let out a puff of air. "Do you ever plan on sleeping?"

"You do more than I do," the girl countered with a raise of her eyebrow.

"Hmmph," he muttered, glancing at the pensieve. "Brewing Wolfsbane potion is not as exciting as it's made out to be. What make it difficult are not the techniques used, but the tediousness and the time required. If you think hours of watching me dry and crush herbs and then stare at a simmering base for two half-days is a beneficial way to spend your weekend, then by all means…"

Hermione frowned. "Really? You mean I could technically brew it?"

The professor snorted. "If you learned to handle the Wolfsbane plant without poisoning yourself, and you had the ability to dedicate eight hour stints of time to doing nothing but watching a cauldron bubble, looking for any imperfections that could possibly affect the efficacy or virulence of the potion; it could be possible."

"How many eight hour stints?" she questioned.

"More than you care to imagine," he responded before pointing to the ornate metal bowl. "Shall we perhaps return to what we are meant to accomplish?"

"But we didn't set a time to…_meet_," she responded quickly.

Snape sighed and rubbed his temple. "Fine. We'll just utilize our Monday meeting time. That way we will not have to bother Minerva any more than we already are."

"Okay. Shall I just floo into your quarters then, instead of here?"

He nodded and tilted his head. "Now, may we move on?"

"Yes," she smiled, stepping beside him. In response to his gesture, she touched her forehead to the smooth liquid.

A few seconds later, the pair of them were seated once again in the Gryffindor bleachers.

_"I was wondering about something, Hermione."_

_"In Charms, you seem to master things so quickly,"_ he stated. "_I was curious how you do it."_

_"Practice, I guess."_

_"Do you think you could help me a bit?"_

_"Erm, well…"_

_"You helped out Neville,"_ he pointed out. "_You saw us in class yesterday – his butterflies put mine to shame!"_

_"If you're going to insult Neville, I'm out."_

He shook his head. _"I'm not. I just think I should brush up a bit in Charms considering I'm going to flunk Potions."_

Snape failed to stifle a snort, and Hermione bit down on her lip to keep from smiling as her memory self took a deep breath and nodded.

_"Can I think about it? I only helped Neville in class, and all I did really was work on boosting his confidence. If you want to work outside of lessons, then I have to figure out when I have time in my schedule."_

_"Oh, yeah,"_ he nodded happily. _"Definitely. I know you're just as busy as I am, especially since you have more classes than I do."_

She twisted the ring on her finger. _"It's certainly not as easy as it used to be."_

_"It used to be easy? What school did _you_ go to?"_

The girl laughed and playfully elbowed him in the side. _"Fair point."_

_"If it helps, you can rule out Mondays and Thursdays for Quidditch, and sometimes I meet with Professor Dumbledore on the weekends."_

_"Oh? What do you then?" _

He looked around the stands and then shrugged. _ "Professor Dumbledore says I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it. Not even you or Ron."_

_"I understand."_ The memory Hermione sighed in disappointment and watched the match with apathy.

Snape cleared his throat, taking advantage of the lull in conversation. "I would lose 'understand', if it were me."

"Erm…what about 'I see'?" she suggested.

He exhaled loudly, but nodded. "That would be better. You also should include a higher feeling of frustration."

Hermione let out a breath and mentally stored the recommendations away for later use.

_"Oh, for fuck's sake!"_

_"You know it's not actually our team out there, right?"_

_"What? Oh, yeah. I know. But that should have been an easy block!"_

The brunette shook her head amusedly and leaned her elbows on her knees.

_"Use your head, Parsons!"_ Ginny shouted. _"Geez!"_

The memory Hermione's eyes widened and she cast the silencing spell.

_"Harry, have you been practicing your Occlumency?"_

The boy sagged slightly. _"Hermione, just let it go. Snape said I was fine."_

_"It's Professor Snape, and since when have you ever followed his advice?"_

He rolled his eyes and looked curiously at the Gryffindors sitting around them. _"They can't hear us, can they?"_

_"No, and you're avoiding my question."_

_"And I'm going to keep avoiding it, because I'm not supposed to answer that question."_

Her eyes narrowed. _"What does _that_ mean?"_

Harry shook his head. _"Think about it, Hermione."_

_"What—"_

_"Hermione, I'm not _supposed_ to talk about that with _anyone_. Not even you or Ron, _remember_?"_

She closed her eyes and sighed. _"Oh! You mean…"_

Harry gave a curt nod, and glanced about them as she removed the_ Muffliato. "You seriously need to teach me that one."_

The scene collapsed in on itself and launched the two viewers back into the dungeon office.

"Well?" she asked.

Snape ran his fingers along his lips in thought as he crossed over to his chair. After nearly a minute had passed, he met her eyes and shrugged. "I think that if you smooth everything out until you can convince yourself it could have happened, it may just be believable enough for the Dark Lord. It's just subtle enough to be real intelligence, and it's just obvious enough to have come from a young Gryffindor."

"Yeah?" she intoned, ignoring the slight against her House.

He nodded slowly. "You should continue practicing it whenever possible. It needs to stay firmly cemented in your mind until it is time for it to be viewed."

She let out a slow breath and sat on the edge of her chair. "On that note, how do I know he'll actually see it?"

"There is no need to worry over that," the wizard answered, resting his elbows onto his desk. "When the Dark Lord enters your mind, you will do exactly as you have when I perform the memory extraction. Your focus will keep the image near the front of your memories, and there will be no chance that he will not catch hold of it."

"He won't find it suspicious that he locates the memory so easily?" Hermione questioned.

"I highly doubt it," he sighed. "The Dark Lord set you a task, and he will likely take it as a sign that you are eager to please him in order to avoid further punishment. If you are concerned about it, however, you can always push forth other memories first, and then provide him with this one."

The girl shivered and ran her hands over her arms. "I know you're busy with your own things, but do you think you could perhaps…"

"Go through your head again?" he smirked, leaning back in his chair.

She gave a sheepish smile and nodded. "I just don't want to bollocks anything up."

Severus nodded and glanced at the clock. "Well, we have a bit of time left before your fan club comes down from their brooms."

**XxXxX**

"Harry, you're _not_ listening to me!" she shouted as she tossed back his wand for the sixteenth time.

"I _am_ listening!" he glared. "But what you're saying doesn't make any bloody sense! You're sending me silent curses; how could I possibly be able to anticipate that? I'm not a Seer!"

Hermione blew out a frustrated puff of air and rubbed her forehead. "You have to read your opponent. Body language, facial expressions, muscle twitches …anything…everything."

The boy narrowed his gaze. "Impossible."

"No, it's not," she hissed rudely. "Neville and I have managed to figure it out, so surely it must be possible."

Harry grunted and sullenly kicked at the stone floor.

"Alright fine," she sighed. "Try to disarm me, and I'll tell you exactly what I see when you do it."

Exhaling loudly, he shrugged and took a dueling stance. After a few seconds, he volleyed a silent disarming spell in her direction.

"Protego!" she shouted as she successfully blocked it.

He frowned and glanced at her expectantly.

"Your whole face tensed in concentration," she stated, twirling her wand within her fingers. "I could almost sense you visualizing the wand motions. When you decided to actually do it, you set your mouth, leaned half an inch towards me, and then your hand twitched just before you cast it."

His jaw dropped slightly as she spoke and he wiped his face. "You noticed all of that?"

She nodded. "Everyone has a tell when dueling. Some are easier to spot than others."

"How do you know all this?" he whispered in disbelief.

Hermione smiled and shrugged. "I did a bit of reading this summer."

"You? Read?" Harry smirked and shook his head.

"A bit of a shock, I know," she giggled before clearing her throat. "This time when I face you, I want you to study what I do. Don't focus on trying to block me; just work on figuring out my tell."

He let out a deep breath, but nodded.

For the first one, the girl decided to make it easier for him. She purposely gripped her wand tighter before casting the silent _Expelliarmus_. When he pointed it out, she smiled and waited for him to pick up his wand before immediately disarming him again.

"Hey!" he shouted. "I wasn't ready yet! I didn't see you do anything."

"You're not paying close enough attention then," she chided. "You can't let your guard down."

Harry grumbled as he snatched his wand from her and paced back to his spot. "Fine. I'll be ready this time."

"So you say," she grinned.

**XxXxX**

Hermione had waited an extra ten minutes after Ginny and the boys had boisterously made their way out of the common room, excited to play in the light snowfall. She had then muttered something to Mathina about needing a book from the library, and casually slipped out of Gryffindor Tower. Dressed in a lilac jumper, white tee, and jeans, she anxiously rubbed her hands together as she descended the staircase. Upon turning from the seventh floor landing, she jumped slightly in surprise at the appearance of Draco Malfoy.

The boy gave her a bitter glare as he moved to push past her on the stairs, but said nothing.

She swallowed in concern as she noticed the broken expression on his face, and she could see he held a crumpled piece of parchment in one of his hands.

"Are you alright?" she whispered almost automatically.

His eyes snapped to her and rage flared to life within them. "What the fuck do you care, Mudblood?"

The girl let out a hurt breath and grabbed his arm gently as he attempted to flee. "Draco, I am sorry –"

"Don't touch me, you stupid bitch!" he shouted, yanking his arm away from her and scampering to the top of the flight of stairs. "Don't talk to me; don't look at me; just fucking leave me the hell alone!"

As he angrily stormed down the corridor, somewhat cradling his arm, Hermione realized in horror that it had been his left forearm on which she had pulled. If his brand felt anything like hers had before it healed – which she was quite sure was the case –she knew that she had just caused him an immeasurable amount of pain.

A shamed gasp escaped her mouth as she covered her face with her hands and sank against the stairwell wall. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes as she realized how hopeless his situation was. She and Draco had never been on good terms, but she had never wanted to see him receive anything worse than a punch to the nose. Bigoted child of a Death Eater or not, he was still a human being and as such deserved to be treated as one. He did not deserve to be tortured into slavery any more than she did.

Hermione wiped her eyes and sniffled. If there was anything she could do to let him know he was not alone, she would do it. He needed help just as much as Harry did, but while the Boy-Who-Lived had people lining up to aid him, Draco really only had two piles of skin, fat, and muscle – without a single brain between them — to turn to.

"Hermione?"

Her head popped up at the sound of Lupin's voice, and she immediately rose to her feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she coughed.

Remus narrowed his gaze and glanced up the staircase. "I was doing my after-supper rounds and heard the shouting. What happened? Was that Draco Malfoy you were quarreling with?"

With an exasperated sigh, she nodded.

"Did he hurt you?" the werewolf growled.

"No!" Hermione snapped immediately. "He didn't hurt me at all. He just…well, I just…I tried to apologize, but…"

Lupin raised his eyebrows as she trailed off, and he gave her a concerned look. "You and he are involved?"

She froze for a moment, uncertain of how to respond. She quickly debated whether or not she should encourage his misconception, and ultimately decided that he would assume they were sleeping together either way. Blowing out a long breath, she shifted on her feet and shook her head slightly. "Not now."

"But you were before?"

She shrugged and purposely threw her gaze to the wall to avoid answering the question.

Taking that as an affirmative response, the man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Did he break it off with you?"

The girl shook her head.

"You broke it off?" he pressed.

Hermione sighed loudly and crossed her arms. "Forgive me, Professor, but what does it matter? Why do you need to know? The point is I wanted to apologize to him, and he doesn't want anything to do with me. End of story.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for my appointment with Professor McGonagall," she added as she moved to step around him.

Remus cleared his throat and nodded. "I do apologize, Hermione. I should not have pried, but I wanted to ensure that you were alright."

"I'm fine," she repeated loudly as she made her way down the stairs. When she noticed that he was following her, she stopped and stared at him. "I thought you had rounds."

He gave a small smile and shrugged. "I thought I might escort you to your appointment instead."

Groaning internally, she slowly began stepping down the next flight of stairs. "You really don't need to, sir."

"Well, I need to speak with Professor Snape anyway, so it isn't going out of my way in the least."

"Fine," she mumbled, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But I don't want to talk about Draco."

"I promise I won't even mention it," he responded cheerfully. True to his word, Remus walked with her the entire way to McGonagall's office without speaking of anything beyond class work. Upon reaching the office door, he gave her a smile and wished her a pleasant rest of the night.

As the door shut behind her, Hermione immediately sprinted to the fireplace, causing Minerva to look up from her marking in surprise.

"Whatever is the matter?" she asked in concern.

"Remus," the girl answered quickly before tossing in the powder and calling out, "Professor Snape's quarters!"

As she spun out of the green flames into the familiar sitting room, the dark-haired wizard glanced at her with a raised brow. "Did you forget the time? It's nearly quarter past."

"Lupin!" she shouted breathily. "He's coming to you!"

Snape narrowed his eyes and let his book close with a snap. "What are you talking about?"

"He escorted me to Professor McGonagall's office and said he was on his way to speak to you," Hermione stammered quickly.

"Piss," he spat grumpily as he stood from his seat. "You can stay here. I'll return as soon as he leaves."

She nodded and collapsed onto the sofa. The man had already entered the bedroom and was shrugging on his teaching robes by the time she remembered why Remus had followed her.

"Oh!" She launched to her feet. "By the way, he thinks I've just broken up with Draco!"

Severus turned slowly and stared at her in surprise. "And why is that?"

"Erm…well…he'll tell you, I'm sure."

He rolled his eyes, but accepted the answer and quickly disappeared through the door that led down to his office.

Hermione sighed and sank back into the couch again. For the first time in two weeks, she was thankful for Snape's paranoia. If she had tried to tell Remus that she was headed to the library instead, there was no way she would have been able to sneak into Snape's quarters in time to warn him.

After her heart stopped pounding in her ears, she exhaled slowly and glanced towards the bookshelf. If she was going to have to wait, she might as well entertain herself somehow.

**XxXxX**

"I should have known better than to leave a bookworm alone with my personal collection."

Hermione glanced up from the page she was reading and found Snape leaning against the bedroom door frame. She swallowed anxiously and offered a timid smile. "Sorry, I just –"

He waved his hand dismissively as she stood from the chair. "Lupin is rather relieved that you and Mr. Malfoy have gone your separate ways. Though, he does suspect that Draco's anger stems more from having his plot foiled than from being a jilted lover."

"I'll bet," she sighed, stepping towards the shelf to return the book to its original location.

"And what is it you were burrowing in so deeply?" he asked curiously.

The witch bit her lip and held out the book to him. He took it smoothly and glanced at the spine with an appraising eye. With a nod, he handed it back to her. "A suitable choice."

Severus crossed over to the bookshelf and pulled out a small, green book. "While that particular volume goes into greater depth on the different varieties of shielding defenses, this one also includes other useful spells for protection that would be beneficial for you to know.

"I believe I tried giving this to you once already," he smirked as he set it atop the other book in her hands.

A brief flicker of shame crossed her features as she recognized the worn, bumpy cover. It was the tome she had been reading in Dumbledore's office whilst waiting for Snape to return from his summons months ago. "Well, I _started_ reading it."

"Perhaps you might finish it, then," he responded. "I'll expect you to have read each of those at least twice by the time the winter term starts."

Hermione snorted and looked down at the two volumes. "I think I could manage that. They appear more interesting than a telephone directory, at any rate."

"Indeed." The wizard nodded and glanced out of the corner of his eye to the clock. Giving a small sigh, he took a step towards her and gently removed the books from her hands and set them upon the end table.

"Have you taken the potion yet?"

She nodded and took in a deep breath as she glanced up at his face. "I saw that you had set it out on the nightstand."

"Good," he mumbled, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

The young witch blushed, swallowing nervously. "Do you think we could…erm…take it a little slower this time?"

Severus gave a nod and gestured her towards the bedroom. He followed quietly behind her, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed the ginger cat staring at him from the bed.

"Absolutely not," he muttered, striding towards the offending feline and yanking him from the mattress. "I draw the line, cat."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't bring him, I swear."

He shook his head as he held the yowling creature beneath the armpits and carried him to the sitting room. "The little monster has been finding his own way in for months now."

"Really? So _this_ is where he disappears to?"

Snape dumped the cat in the armchair and hastily stole back to the bedroom, shutting the door securely behind him. "Unfortunately."

She giggled softly as she perched upon the edge of the mattress. "You know it just means he likes you, right? He doesn't take to many people at all."

"I wouldn't go so far as to declare his like for me," he muttered as he unfastened his teaching robes.

"I would," she smiled, kicking off her shoes. "He wouldn't have let you remove him so easily otherwise. In fact, if Ron so much as looks at him for too long, Crooks practically lunges at him. He's not terribly fond of Harry, either. Barely tolerates him."

The wizard snorted and cast a brief look at the door. "Perhaps I've underestimated the intelligence of the demonic furball after all."

Hermione sighed dramatically, but grinned at him all the same. "Perhaps."

As the man sat down on the other side of the bed to remove his boots, she opted to unzip her sweater and remove it along with her socks before sliding back onto the bed. As she waited for him to finish readying himself, she leaned against the headboard and chewed on her bottom lip in anxiety.

A minute or so later, she looked up as Severus placed himself immediately beside her. She offered him a shy smile as he turned to her and gently touched her chin.

"If you feel uncomfortable with anything, I wish for you to tell me immediately," he said softly. "You will not push yourself for my sake. Is that understood?"

The girl nodded her head emphatically and leaned a fraction of an inch closer. He stroked the side of her face before slowly lowering his lips to hers. As they exchanged easy kisses, he could feel her beginning to relax. He slid one hand around her waist, and smiled slightly when she all but melted into his embrace.

After a few minutes Snape slipped one hand beneath her shirt and slowly ran it along her back until he reached the clasp of her bra. When he successfully released the hooks, she moved away from him long enough for him to pull her t-shirt over her head and slip her bra straps from her shoulders. As both articles of clothing hit the floor, he placed a number of small kisses along her neck and cupped one of her breasts in his hand.

Hermione sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes momentarily at the sensation. When she finally managed to open them again, she brought both of her hands to his chest and worked on freeing him from his long-sleeved shirt. As opposed to the last time they were together, this time she managed to defeat the row of buttons on her own. She then flattened her palms against his scarred flesh as he pulled his mouth from her throat.

The man guided her down the length of the mattress until she was lying with her head on the pillow. He leaned over her, trailing soft kisses from her forehead, along the length of her face and neck, until reaching her chest. As he took one peaked nipple into his mouth, she gasped and arched against him. Unable to speak, the witch opened and closed her mouth, and her hands roughly gripped the sides of his shirt as he moved his attentions to the other breast.

By no means at all did Severus consider himself to be an accomplished lover. Upon hearing that she had done what she had in order to please him, though, he had ultimately decided that he would do everything he knew to do in order to keep her from trying it again. He had determined from their previous encounters and his limited knowledge of the curse that the binding magic heightened the sensitivity of her nerve fibers, which in effect would make her more responsive to his attentions. While it could make certain things easier for him, it also meant that any pain experienced during intercourse would be that much worse. With that in mind, he knew he had to keep himself somewhat controlled so as not to risk further hurting her – physically or emotionally.

Detaching himself from her nipple, he kissed the underside of each breast and then continued moving down her torso. He stopped suddenly just above the top of her jeans when he felt her begin to tense up in a different manner. Immediately he leaned up and rested his forehead against hers.

"I won't go any farther," he whispered. Truthfully, he had not planned on doing so anyway. Oral sex was something in which he had absolutely no experience, and there was no way in hell he was going to blunder through an attempt with her now.

Her eyelashes tickled him as her eyes flashed open. She swallowed nervously and panted, "I didn't s-say anything."

"I could feel your anxiety," Snape responded softly, trailing a finger along the side of her face.

"Oh," she breathed, meeting his gaze. "I'm sor –"

"Don't." Recognizing the fleeting look that crossed her face as one of panic, the wizard sighed and lightly held her chin. "You are fine."

Upon pressing his lips to hers, he heard her give a slight whimper but he took it as a sign of encouragement when she relaxed against him. Her fingers fisted tighter in his shirt, and she opened her mouth to him. As the kiss deepened, the heat between them increased until Severus realized that he would not be able to restrain himself much longer.

He pulled away from her and quickly began unfastening her jeans. She was panting heavily, but assisted him in the remainder of her undressing by lifting her bottom from the mattress. With fumbling fingers, he worked on his own trousers; shoving them down just far enough before settling into the cradle of her hips.

Hermione moved her hands to grip his shoulders as he positioned himself, and she set her jaw in a groan as he pushed into her. After a few of his slower, shallower thrusts, she closed her eyes and wrapped her legs around his waist. He stumbled slightly at the sudden sensation of being pulled deeper, but quickly managed to return to his original pace.

This time she did not attempt to meet his thrusts, a fact that he was eternally grateful for at the moment. If she had, he seriously doubted whether or not he would make it long enough to get her to where she needed to be. As it was, he was already concentrating immeasurably hard to keep himself going. Each and every soft mewl and moan that slipped out of her only managed to make it even harder.

Thankfully, he soon felt her muscles beginning to seize up and spasm around him. He let out the breath he had been holding and gave one final movement and collapsed onto his elbows as she pulled him over the edge with her. He remained steady for a long moment while they both came down from their high before he groaned slightly and pulled out of her.

Snape rolled onto his back and laid beside her, staring up at the ceiling and listening only to their heavy breathing. Eventually his brain cleared enough to remember his awkward state of undress, and he silently set to righting it.

Hermione shifted and turned her head to look at him. As she watched him re-button the top button of his trousers, she swallowed slightly, feeling somewhat bashful about her own nakedness. Covering her chest with one arm, she felt around blindly for her clothes with the other hand. Upon finding them, she clutched the pile to her form.

"Erm, I guess I'll just shower then," she mumbled quietly as she slipped off of the bed.

He looked up at her, somewhat surprised by her sudden withdrawal. "Are you alright?"

"Hmm?" she hummed. "Oh, erm, yeah. I'm alright."

Severus narrowed his eyes. "Hermione?"

She turned to look at him over his shoulder, and he felt his anxiety suddenly vanish at the huge grin on her face. "Definitely more than alright."

He snorted quietly and returned with a small smile of his own. "Your clothes should be laundered by the house-elves before you leave. You might as well leave them there."

Her face fell slightly. "But –"

"If you're about to launch into a monologue regarding elf-rights, now is not the time."

"But –"

"Unless you prefer to scrub your knickers while showering," he smirked, "because I have no particular desire to do so."

He noticed the corners of her mouth quivering as she fought her smile.

"But –"

"Granger," he sighed, "If your protests are because you feel self-conscious, remember I've more than seen you naked."

Her nose wrinkled lightly and she failed to hold back her own smirk as she huffed and tossed her clothes to the floor. Snape let out a chuckle as the blushing witch scrambled into the bathroom and shut the door behind her as quickly as possible.

**XxXxX**

Minerva's head snapped up at the sound of her floo activating. She did not quite remember dozing off, but was not actually surprised seeing as she had run out of any coursework to mark nearly an hour before. She worked a crick out of her neck as she watched her student spin out of the fireplace.

"Miss Granger," she stated in a mildly chiding tone. "If, in the future, Professor Snape plans to keep you past the previously discussed time, I do expect to be informed of that ahead of time."

"Mmm-hmm," the girl nodded in a manner that emulated Luna Lovegood.

McGonagall sighed and leaned back in her chair. "Miss Granger, did you even listen to what I just said?"

Hermione glanced at her with a vague look. "Erm, what?"

The elder witch let out an exasperated sigh as she took in the girl's twinkling eyes, flushed cheeks, and timid smile. "Merlin."

"Hmm?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and rubbed her temples. "It would seem to me that showering would prove a moot point if you're going to broadcast it all over your face."

"Oh," she mumbled biting her lip. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize –"

"Should you fail to make it back to your dormitory without grinning like a baboon," the deputy headmistress warned, "I shall assign you to tutor Miss Brown on her Transfiguration assignments for the remainder of the term."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror, and the smile finally evaporated from her face.

"I thought that might prove enough of an incentive," she smirked.


	40. Trials

**A/N: Hi all! Thank you so much for your reviews! I realized ashamedly that it has been over a month since my last update on this story. I am so so sorry! I swear it did not seem like that long, but then again...life moves way too fast these days.  
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**This update is shorter than many of the more recent chapters, but I wanted to leave you with something now. Plus, this seems like a better ending point than what I'm thinking will come next.  
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**For those of you who are waiting for the "Call me, Severus" part - not quite yet, but it will happen, I swear!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 40  
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Before she could hardly comprehend it, the first week of December had already come to a close. Hermione had spent the majority of her free time that week focusing on her school work. Essays had begun to pile up, and she had needed something to take her mind off of Monday night's renewal. She had struggled to keep her attention on her brewing during Potions lessons – succeeding only when continuously reminding herself of Professor McGonagall's threat. No way in hell was she ever going to tutor Lavender Brown. If she could not keep her mind off of Won-won long enough to pass her classes, that was her own problem.

It was bad enough that Hermione had to watch her fawn all over Ron at the dinner table. It was additionally disturbing to see him use a napkin. She had been telling him for five years that he needed to improve his table manners, and nothing had happened. Lavender waltzes in to his line of view, and within a month, he's using a napkin and chewing with his mouth closed. Surprisingly, she found that more disgusting than being subjected to the sight of partially masticated food rolling around on his tongue.

_A tongue that has frequently been inside Lavender's mouth. Ugh. _

"Ouch!" she hissed, as a sharp pain suddenly flared across her shin bone. She dropped her fork and rubbed where Ginny had kicked her. "What was that for?"

"You were staring." The redhead gestured with her head towards Ron and Lavender. "It was creeping me out."

"So you _kicked_ me?" she asked bitterly. "You could have said something, Gin."

"I was trying to get your attention, and you weren't listening," Ginny grumbled. "I was trying for three minutes to tell you to knock it off."

The brunette huffed softly and picked up her fork again. "Everyone _else_ is staring at them."

"Everyone else is staring at them because they're a bloody spectacle," Ginny muttered. "You, however, were staring like you were one eye twitch away from _Avada_-ing one of them. I'm not visiting you in Azkaban if you murder my brother. He's a prat, but he's still my flesh and blood.

"And if you kill Lavender, you'd only be proving me right," she grinned matter-of-factly.

"What would she be proving?" Harry asked, overhearing part of their conversation.

"Nothing," the older girl stated quickly.

Ginny snorted as she grabbed a dinner roll. "She told me that she doesn't care that Won-won and Lav-Lav are an item. I think she's lying."

"Oh," he murmured quietly, while his friend leaned across the table.

"Would you keep your bloody voice down?"

"Then keep your murderous gaze down," the younger witch returned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but vowed not to glance in that direction any more. Eventually her roommate drifted off into conversation with another fifth-year Gryffindor, and she was left to her own thoughts again. She looked up when Harry nudged her in the side.

"Still meeting tonight?" he whispered.

She slowly nodded her head, sighing in exasperation when a loud giggling exploded from Lavender's direction.

"Just ignore them."

"Easier said than done." She gritted her teeth as she shoveled a load of meat onto her fork.

"Now you know what it's like," Harry snickered. "Every time you tell me to ignore Snape, this is how it is."

She glanced at him in slight irritation and shook her head. "_Professor_ Snape, Harry."

**xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX**

"You're doing better," Hermione smiled, tossing his wand back.

"I don't quite believe you," Harry grimaced. "But it's nice of you to say it."

She shook her head as she counted out a number of paces. "No, you are. I swear. You're responding quicker."

"It's still hard to read you, though," he sighed. "You took it easier on me last week, didn't you?"

The witch shrugged and gave a small smile.

"Are you taking it easy on me now?" When she looked towards the wall and feigned innocence, Harry groaned and wiped the sweat from his brow. "This time, don't hold back. I want to know how far I have to go."

She smirked wickedly as they squared off again. Three seconds later, the wizard found himself staring up at the wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling. He grunted loudly as he pulled himself back onto his feet and rubbed the back of his head where it had hit the cushioned floor.

"Alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, genuinely concerned. She had not fully anticipated how powerful her disarming spells had become. The only one she had dueled at full strength had been Snape, and she had never actually succeeded in disarming him. He always managed to shield her attempts.

The boy took in a wheezing breath and nodded slowly. "Knocked…a bit of the wind out of me, but I'm okay now."

"Sorry," she winced. "I didn't know I could do that."

"That makes two of us," he laughed cautiously. "I don't even know where to begin with that one."

The girl gave a nervous giggle and bit down on her lip. "Well – "

**'Granger. We need to leave. You must make for the Entrance Hall immediately.'**

Her eyes widened, and her stomach dropped as Snape's voice cut across her conscience. The Dark Lord was summoning them, and she was not ready. _Oh God, oh God, oh God…_

"Well, what?" Harry asked, confused by her sudden change in demeanor. "What's wrong?"

_Fuck_! _I can't just run out on Harry without him following me_. Hermione looked up at her friend and schooled her features. "Sorry. I just…erm…remembered that I have an Arithmancy assignment due next class, and I haven't started it yet. It's an entire chapter's worth of problems. I can't believe I forgot about that!"

He gave her a small smirk. "You'll be fine, Hermione. You have all weekend to work on it."

_Damn! Why does it have to be Friday?_ She ran a hand through her hair, trying to figure something out. "Except there's a Quidditch match tomorrow, and I have a bunch of other work to get finished, too."

**'Hurry it up, Granger!'**

_'A little fucking help would be appreciated, then!_' Tears were beginning to form in her eyes as she realized how ill-prepared she was. She had never thought about being summoned in the middle of Harry's lesson. _How the hell am I going to get out of here?_

Suddenly, she was thinking that she was in need of a full-length, unbreakable mirror. Half a second later, the wall she was facing became entirely covered with mirrored panels.

And then her mouth was moving, and she could hear herself speaking. "Since I really do need to get as much of it done tonight as I can, I want you to practice on your own. These mirrors are designed to absorb any spell cast at them, so I want you to watch yourself casting non-verbals and try to discern your tells. See if you can duel yourself tonight, and next week we'll try it again."

"Okay," Harry spoke slowly, lifting his eyebrows as he noticed her eyes glistening more than usual. "Hermione, it's going to be okay. It's just one assignment."

"I know, I know," she muttered, collecting her school robes and making to the door. "I still have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Harry!"

He offered her a bemused wave as she pushed through the door and disappeared into the hallway.

As soon as the door clicked shut, she disillusioned herself and sprinted down the nearest staircase. She descended the seven stories as quickly as she could, and did not stop running until a strong arm grabbed her around the waist as she skittered across the floor at the castle entrance.

She squawked in surprise, but quieted when she looked up to see Snape giving her a pointed look. She shivered as he guided her invisible form into the dark, winter night. As the castle doors closed behind them, she wrapped her school robes tighter around her body, and was immediately grateful that she had thought to put on a jumper before meeting Harry. She only wished that she had not opted to braid her hair that day. Her ears would have kept much warmer under her unruly curls.

As the snow squeaked beneath their feet, she could not fight the rising panic. They were not out for a nice winter stroll; they were heading to what very well could be their death.

Hermione wrapped her arms around her body and tried to run through the fake memory. She should have practiced more. She should have spent less time on her essays and more time working through the images. _What if it was not enough? What if I mess up? What if he doesn't believe me? What if –_

"Granger, stop it," he muttered.

"Sorry," she squeezed her eyes shut and stepped closer to him.

Severus sighed at her continued anxieties and held out his arm in front of the slight shimmer of her form. When she latched on to his elbow, he could feel her energy quivering through him. He exhaled slowly as he opened the large iron gates at the end of the walk, and silently cancelled her concealing charm. The fear was evident across her expression, and there were tears building up in her eyes.

"Hermione, calm yourself. You will do well."

The girl swallowed and nodded. "Okay, I'm… okay."

Grunting in response, the wizard wrapped his arms about her shoulders and touched the tip of his wand to his Dark Mark. One gut-wrenching second later, the pair appeared in the snow-covered field.

"Severus," Voldemort called. "I make allowances for your limited transportation, but I do not like to be kept waiting."

Hermione winced and tossed an apologetic look over her shoulder as she sank to her knees in the snow.

"My apologies, my Lord," Snape responded dutifully. "There were issues in extracting her from Gryffindor Tower without drawing unwanted attention."

The dark wizard's red eyes immediately snapped to the girl kneeling before him. He quickly strode towards her and used two frigid fingers to thrust her forehead backwards.

She gulped as she suddenly found herself staring into his piercing gaze.

"Is what he says true?"

With a whimper, she nodded.

"What were you doing?"

"H-helping H-harry with h-his h-homework…"

It was stretching the truth a bit, but was by no means a lie, Snape mused as he stood silently. He had no doubts that Lupin expected them to practice outside of class.

Voldemort took a step back and let his hand fall to his side. He regarded her shivering form for a few seconds before glancing back to Severus. "Do you find her as obedient as she seems?"

"I have no grievances with her, my Lord."

Hermione dropped her eyes to the trampled snow in front of her and tried to ignore the cold moisture seeping into her jeans. Her bare hands were already beginning to feel raw from the cold, and she was gritting her teeth to prevent them from chattering. When a pair of disgustingly pale feet appeared in her line of sight, she gasped involuntarily.

She squeaked when the evil wizard grabbed her roughly by the back of the neck and hauled her to her feet.

Without removing his angry gaze from the girl, he briefly addressed Snape once more. "She resists you no longer?"

Severus cleared his throat. "She has been exceptionally compliant since our last visit, my Lord."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes into slits, and Hermione let out a nervous whine as he harshly swept his thumb across the flesh of her throat. When she squirmed slightly in his hold, he pressed the pad of his thumb against her trachea. "Has she complied with my requests as well?"

The girl nodded her head emphatically as tears began spilling out of her eyes.

"She has."

"You know what Harry Potter is doing in his private meetings with Dumbledore?" he hissed with wide eyes. When she nodded again, he tightened his entire grip on her throat. "Then tell me!"

Hermione unconsciously clawed at his hand as she opened her mouth in an attempt to speak. She could hardly breathe to begin with, and the only sounds she could make were awkward little peeps. As she struggled, her tormenter chuckled loudly before opening his mental assault.

Snape winced visibly as he heard her give a gurgled cry at the brute force of the attack. He could see the Dark Lord ripping through her memories like a rabid dog, but he was not finding the false memory. The Potions Master cursed silently as he realized that she was too distracted by having to fight to keep breathing. She was wasting her energy trying to keep her Occlumency shields up when she should be projecting the image.

**'Hermione, focus! You need to focus!'**

The girl whimpered at the sound of his voice, but she attempted to follow his instruction.

**'Believe in it, Hermione, and he will believe in it. Remember what I told you – your mind will inherently protect itself. He will not be able to find anything if you lose consciousness.'**

Putting her trust in his words, she shifted what little focus she had left to thinking of the scenario she had manipulated. Just as the blackness was beginning to creep in from the edges of her vision, she felt Voldemort catch hold of the production and pull it forward.

As soon as it finished playing out, the Dark Lord withdrew from her mind and released her. As she collapsed to the ground in a fit of wheezes and coughs, Voldemort tapped one slender finger against his mouth and began to pace.

"Occlumency?" he sneered. "He's teaching the boy to occlude me?"

"It appears as such," Snape nodded, surreptitiously watching Hermione trying to catch her breath from the corner of his eye. "I spoke to the Headmaster following the girl's discovery, and I believe he has confirmed it."

As the evil wizard tilted his head, Severus felt his own mental barriers undergo a battering. Ignoring the painful twinges, he lowered his shield enough to push through the carefully-edited memory of Dumbledore's office. When the image faded away, the Dark Lord cancelled his Legilimency hold and broke into a grin.

"The old fool! He's wasting time!" Voldemort gave an excited laugh and stepped back towards the young witch lying in the snow. He bent down and tenderly ran his hand along the side of her face. "The fool is wasting time, and you're going to help him do it, aren't you?"

Surprised by the sudden change in her treatment, she flicked her eyes towards Snape. When he gave a slight dip of his head, she met the Dark Lord's hopeful gaze and nodded.

"A-ha!" The snakelike grin widened on his horrible face as he affectionately caressed her cheek. "My beautiful Hermione – so talented with delicate charms that the great Harry Potter seeks your counsel. Having trouble with his little birds flitting about, is he? His friends are dying all around him, and he's worried about being outshined in front of that silly half-breed?"

He laughed vibrantly as he raised to his full height. Hermione's eyes widened when he extended his hand towards her. Panting heavily, she swallowed her fear and placed her shaking hand in his palm. Gently, he wrapped his long fingers around hers and pulled her to her feet.

"Severus," Voldemort cooed, turning to face his follower. "You will take this darling girl of yours back to her scarlet tower where she will ensure that Precious Potter has the best _Avis_ charm in the British Isles! And when she has, she will use that brilliant mind of hers to assist him with the rest of the meaningless drivel that school deems necessary to assign!"

"My Lord?"

"Tut, tut, Severus," he chided amusedly as he led an utterly befuddled Hermione towards the dark-cloaked wizard. "If Dumbledore wishes to waste his time training the boy in such folly, let us support him in any manner we can."

Snape took in a long breath as he comprehended the Dark Lord's line of thought. When the girl's hand was held out to him, he accepted it. He pulled her closer to his body in preparation for apparition when the tyrant addressed him once more.

"Oh, and Severus, see to it that the girl shares anything of importance with you. I will not risk this arrangement on your ability to sneak her out of the castle beneath Dumbledore's nose. I do not have the time to wait for you."

He gave an acquiescing dip of his head and immediately apparated himself and the girl to the gates of Hogwarts. After casting a notice-me-not charm, he pushed open the gates far enough to allow them entrance and then tugged her to the edge of the gravel path.

Without a word, he cast warming and drying charms over her body. He removed his winter cloak and transfigured it to fit her smaller frame. He pulled the fur-lined hood over her head and then gestured to her reddened hands. "Put your hands in the interior pockets. It will protect them until I can treat any frost damage."

Hermione did as she was told and attempted not to wince at the stinging of her chapped knuckles. She swallowed nervously when he gently traced his fingers along the edge of her throat. Biting her lip, she briefly met his questioning gaze before averting her eyes to the snow about their feet.

"I do not sense any serious damage," he said softly, drawing his hand from her body. When she nodded silently, he exhaled slowly. "Do you require immediate attention, or may we update the Headmaster first?"

She glanced up at the concerned expression on his face and shrugged as she whispered, "I think I'm alright for now."

A pained look crossed his countenance at the scratchiness of her voice. He squinted up at the brightly-lit window of the Headmaster's office, and then back at the girl shivering in front of him. With a sigh, he disillusioned her and gestured for her to follow him to the castle.

"You will not have to speak," he stated matter-of-factly. "It will be quick."

**xXxXxXxXxXx**

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore greeted quietly, looking up from his desk. His eyes dimmed almost imperceptibly at the sight of the subdued girl following closely at his spy's heels. "Miss Granger."

She spared him a sideways glance as Snape steered her towards an armchair by the fire. Collapsing into the chair, she tucked her feet beneath her and pulled the winter cloak tighter around her body as she fought off another round of shivers.

"I take it from your mutual absence and reappearance that Riddle wanted a word with the two of you," the Headmaster sighed, leaning back in his seat.

Snape grunted in response as he stepped towards the desk and sank down into a chair. "A stunning conversationalist, as always."

Albus nodded in understanding and steepled his fingers. "And what has transpired?"

"He is interested in our keeping the boy distracted with empty tasks while he builds in strength."

"Empty tasks?" the elder wizard asked with a raise of one eyebrow.

Severus sighed and rubbed his temples. "School work… Quidditch… anything not directly related to his preparing for facing the Dark Lord."

"Mmmm, I see." Dumbledore touched the tips of his fingers to his lips. "Was there nothing else discussed? No mention of the Malfoy boy?"

The spy shook his head slowly. "We were simply summoned so the Dark Lord could inspect her progress on monitoring Potter. Once he finished his examination, we were dismissed for the evening."

"He gave you no further commands?"

"To continue on in our present endeavor," Snape responded. "And since he has gained next to nothing of value, he has decided that Miss Granger will no longer need to be brought before him. She is instead to share anything of significance with me, and I will subsequently relay it to the Dark Lord when next he calls."

Albus widened his eyes and glanced briefly towards the chair where Hermione was curled up by the fire. "I must say I find that a bit surprising."

The girl raised her head at his proclamation, but the Slytherin Head simply shrugged. "I may have mentioned the difficulty in bringing her to him without your catching wind of it."

"A bit of a risk to take, Severus," he said with a smile, though his eyes held a glimmer of censure. A handful of seconds passed before he shifted his gaze again to the girl. "Nevertheless, I am glad that you may breathe a little easier, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave him an uneasy nod before resting her head against her knees. Her head was beginning to ache, and the cheery brightness of the office was only making it worse. It was not as bad as it had been before Halloween, but it was enough to put her mother's migraines to shame.

The two professors continued speaking, but she paid them little attention as she tried to ignore the rising tension in her head. It was getting to the point where she was beginning to feel sick to her stomach. She sucked in a steadying breath of air and buried her face into the crook of her arm.

Sensing her discomfort, Snape cleared his throat and stood from his chair. "If that is all, Headmaster?"

The elder wizard glanced at him in mild surprise and then flicked his eyes toward the girl. He nodded in understanding and waved in the direction of the fireplace. "Yes, of course, Severus. She requires your attention more than I."

The witch raised her head at the weight of his hand on her shoulder. Slowly, she clambered out of the chair and followed him to the fireplace. As they swirled out of the green flames, she was hit with a sudden bout of nausea and quickly grabbed onto the mantle to steady herself.

"Do you need to lie down?" Snape asked, eyeing her with concern.

The girl shook her head and inhaled deeply. "I don't think lying down is going to do anything to stop the pounding in my head."

He grunted in understanding and gestured with his head to the bedroom door. "If you can manage your way to the lavatory, we can try to dampen the effect."

Hermione slowly nodded and cautiously began picking her way around the furniture, attempting not to make any more movement than was absolutely necessary. The wizard trailed behind her and kept his eyes trained on her figure, watching carefully for any loss of balance. When they at last reached the bathroom, he had her sit upon the commode while he dug out a headache relief potion from the cupboard beside the sink. As she quickly downed the flask's contents, Severus wordlessly began drawing her a bath.

"Ugh," she whimpered, holding her head. "Why is it so loud?"

He let out a small sigh and silenced the splashing water with a flick of his wand. "Better?"

"Mmm-hmm," she hummed, though she kept her eyes pinched shut.

"I will turn out the lights as soon as I've examined your hands," he promised. After years of having his mind torn open by Voldemort and having to teach hundreds of giddy school-children, he had the art of minimizing a migraine down to a science. He had prepared his own remedies in the dark on many occasions, and he was half-assured that he could do it in his sleep if needed.

"Okay," she whispered, slipping her hands down onto her lap. She hissed slightly when he ran his thumb across the knuckles of her right hand.

"My apologies." The Potions Master reached back into the cupboard and pulled out a small, round jar of white salve. "This should heal them quickly and prevent any further irritation from the hot water."

The young witch bit down on her lower lip as he gently massaged the substance onto first her right hand and then her left. As an intense cooling feeling erupted along her chapped fingers, she gave a small squeak of surprise. When he extinguished the lights in the room a half-minute later, she slowly opened her eyes and made another noise of appreciation.

"How do you know how to do all of this?" she whispered as she watched him sprinkle the now-familiar blue crystals into the bath water.

He sighed upon finishing his task, and rubbed the back of his neck. "It comes with the territory, I suppose."

"Of being a Potions professor, or a spy?"

Severus turned to look at her, and she could barely make out the gleam of his eyes. "Must it be exclusive to one option?"

Hermione snickered in spite of her current condition, and suddenly found herself wincing at the pain rippling through her head. The wizard took in a frustrated breath and stood to his full height after stowing the jar of crystals beneath the sink.

"I will leave you to bathe," he murmured as he took a step out of the room. "I will have Dobby retrieve clothes for you, and when you feel the pain has become more manageable, I will see to the contusions on your neck."

The girl nodded in response and stood to unclasp the winter cloak. He took it from her when she held it out, and when he moved to close the door, she whispered, "You can leave it open."

He lifted one eyebrow in surprise, but let his hand fall away from the knob.

"Thank you."

With a nod, he slipped through the bedroom doorway and into the sitting room. Hermione gave a soft sigh as she undid the braid in her hair and set to stripping out of her clothes.

**xXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Nearly an hour later, Severus looked up as the pajama-clad girl took a seat beside him on the sofa. "How does it feel?"

She bit her lip and shrugged. "Better, I suppose. I don't feel like I need to throw up, at least."

He nodded as he reached for the jar of yellow bruise paste that was sitting on the end table. As he screwed open the lid, the girl gathered her hair in one hand and held it away from her neck. She closed her eyes in anticipation of the cool salve, but when she felt only his fingers, she narrowed her brow and glanced at him in surprise.

Snape gave her an apologetic look as he undid the clasp of her amethyst necklace before dropping it into her free hand. While beneath the pressure of the Dark Lord's grip, the silver chain had left angry red impressions in the sides of her throat. When he did apply the paste, she gasped involuntarily at the temperature difference before focusing her attention on the look of determination he held as he tended to the bruises that were beginning to form.

Upon finishing his task, the wizard banished the jar back to the bathroom and glanced at the necklace in her hand. "You may want to wait until the irritation fades before donning that again."

Hermione let her hair fall back into place as she nodded. She gave a soft sigh and wrapped her fingers tightly about the pendant. She had scarcely taken it off in the ten weeks it had been in her possession, and she was loathe to be separated from it for any stretch of time.

They sat in silence for several minutes until finally she cleared her throat. "Do you think that...erm… will the Dark—You-Know-Who really not call for me again?"

The man sighed sadly and let his gaze drift to the fireplace. "For the time being, you may be safe. I do not, however, think we can put our trust in any of the Dark Lord's promises."

_Not again_, he thought, _not ever again._

She nodded in understanding and fiddled with jewelry in her hand. "I was afraid of that."

He glanced back at her in time to see a distressed look cross her face. He could tell she was playing over the night's events in her head, and it was unlikely that doing so would do her any benefit. Wishing to distract her from her tendency to fret incessantly, he rested a hand on her shoulder. "Granger, it is over. You did well."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. "I nearly ruined everything. If I had passed out before he found it…"

"It does not matter."

"Yes, it _does_!" The girl looked up at him with shining eyes. "It _does_ matter. He would have known we were lying to him about Harry, and we'd both be dead!"

"We are not, however," Severus countered, moving his hand to gently cup her cheek. "In this world, one needs to focus on what they were able to accomplish and not on what could have happened if they were to fail. You were successful in feeding the most powerful Legilimens a false memory. You were successful in protecting Potter's vulnerable mind. That is what you must not lose sight of. Nothing… else… _matters_."

Hermione bit her lip and paused a moment before curling her feet up onto the sofa and resting her head on his thigh. His surprised gurgle was drowned out by the loud, shuddering sigh that escaped her mouth. His hand hesitantly hovered in the air before it finally came to rest on her waist.

"It isn't burning, is it?" he asked cautiously after a few minutes' worth of quiet.

She shook her head against his leg and moved her empty hand nearer to her face.

Snape let out a small breath of relief. He had been dreading the possibility of having to renew the bond since the moment he had left her in the bath. Glancing down at her silent form, he moved his hand to her face, where he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And your head?"

"Still hurts," she mumbled.

He nodded and made to move his hand, startling somewhat when she caught it with one of her own. Without a word, she tugged it down and placed it purposely over her eyes.

"Granger?"

"Please," she whispered. "It helps. Something about the pressure and heat, I guess. My dad does this for my mum sometimes."

The wizard gave a small grunt but made no effort to remove it even when she had dropped her own hand back to the sofa cushion. When she attempted to snuggle deeper into the couch, he sighed and summoned his restored cloak from the chair where he had tossed it earlier. He magically threw it over the length of her body and watched as she quickly grasped the collar, tucking it close to her chin. A handful of minutes passed in silence before he felt her muscles beginning to relax and her breathing deepened into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

Though a fine layer of sweat was beginning to form across the palm of his left hand, he kept it over her eyes for fear that the movement would wake her. The more uninterrupted sleep she could get, the better it would be for her. He knew in the back of his mind that he should send her back to her own room, but he had an overwhelming urge to keep her within his direct line of sight. It was slightly irrational, he thought, but he could not keep himself from thinking of the nightmare that he had had earlier that month.

It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed to stay still while the Dark Lord's hand had been about her throat. He had known, of course, that the tyrant's intention was not to kill her, but that had not stopped his heart from nearly pounding out of his chest in fear.

As he watched her sleep, he exhaled lengthily and thought of what could have happened had he not kept in control of himself. Had he made any form of protest, it would not have mattered what memories Hermione projected. The Dark Lord would have taken his fondness for the girl as a sign of treachery and would have executed whatever punishment he deemed necessary.

The sudden jarring of his right arm prevented him from further negative contemplation. Severus looked over to see the ginger cat perched upon the armrest of the sofa. With a determined swishing of his bottlebrush tail, the feline fixed him with a very pointed look before stretching casually and sauntering along the back of the couch. The half-Kneazle butted his forehead against the back of the man's head and then daintily hopped down onto the sleeping girl.

"If you wake her up, cat," Snape warned in a low voice.

Crookshanks donned an affronted expression as he looked up at the wizard and began gently kneading her hip. After half a minute's worth of preparing his roost, the cat curled up, yawned sleepily, and tucked his nose beneath his tail.

The Potions Master glanced nervously at Hermione, relaxing slightly when she showed no signs of waking. He was just about to close his own eyes when the Floo suddenly sprang to life.

"Severus?" McGonagall's voice called out as her head appeared in the green flames.

He sent a harsh glare in the direction of the fireplace. "You can come through if you can keep your bloody voice down."

The witch's eyebrows arched visibly before her face disappeared. Two seconds later, she stepped out of the fireplace into his quarters.

"Blasted nosy felines," he muttered beneath his breath as he checked once again to make sure Hermione was still asleep.

"What was that?" Minerva queried; her face twisted into a pointed warning. When he feigned ignorance, she rolled her eyes and glanced concernedly at the girl in his lap. "Is she alright?"

"She will be," he said, clearing his throat. "Did the Headmaster send you to monitor her recovery?"

"Hmmm…what?" she asked, snapping her eyes to his. "Oh, no. Actually it was Mr. Wilcox who alerted me to her absence when he could not find her for rounds a little while ago."

Snape grimaced, realizing he had forgotten all about her being assigned to patrol on Friday nights.

"I told him I had excused her for the evening and that he should seek out Miss Weasley or Miss Lewis to accompany him instead," the Gryffindor Head explained. "I wished to verify for myself, however, that she was alright. Was she…were you…"

With a sigh, he nodded his head.

"I see," she responded sadly. "How did she do?"

"She did well."

McGonagall gave him a tight smile before glancing at the clock. "There's half an hour until curfew, if you did not wish to draw attention. I can escort her back to Gryffindor Tower if you think she is well enough."

The man exhaled loudly and begrudgingly nodded his head. "It would be for the best."

"I think that could be debatable," she smirked, crossing over to the sofa. "The three of you do appear rather cozy."

Severus scowled as he slipped his hand from the girl's eyes.

The Deputy Headmistress chuckled softly as she gingerly shook Hermione's shoulder. The young witch slowly opened her eyes in response and blinked up at her mentor, who smiled back at her. "I'm very sorry to wake you, dear, but it would be best to get you back to your room before curfew."

Wiping her eyes, the girl yawned and pulled herself into a seated position, dislodging her familiar from his perch. As Crookshanks jumped onto the back of the couch and began licking his rumpled fur, Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You mean before Harry has a conniption fit."

At Snape's amused snort, she sheepishly glanced back at him. "Sorry, for… erm, falling asleep on you."

"Oh, don't worry about him," Minerva grinned, holding her hand out to help the girl to her feet. "He's perfectly fine."

The brunette smiled as the wizard rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. She looked down at the necklace she held in her hand and then hesitantly touched the side of her neck. When there was no pain at her touch, she gave a small breath of relief and pocketed the amethyst jewelry in her pajama bottoms.

"Dobby," Snape hissed after glancing at her current attire.

The elf popped into the room a second later. "Master Snape, sir, calls for Dobby?"

"I need you to fetch back Miss Granger's school robes. Now."

With an eager grin, the creature disappeared with a crack and reappeared within a moment. He held out the article of clothing to Hermione, who took it with a small smile.

"Dobby is glad to be of service to Hermione Granger and Master Snape, sir!"

"Thank you, Dobby," the girl responded.

The elf bowed deeply before popping away.

McGonagall waited for the witch to slip on her robes and stow her wand in one of the pockets. She then led the way to the hallway door and held it open for Hermione to pass.

"Good night, Prof—erm, good night," the girl said quietly.

"Good night, Granger," Severus responded. A minute later he cleared his throat loudly. "You've forgotten something."

Both witches turned back to see him glaring at the half-Kneazle, who had paused midway through cleaning his behind in order to return a similarly challenging look to the professor.

Minerva snorted and quirked one eyebrow. "If there's one thing you should know about us 'nosy felines,' Severus, it's that we do as we wish and not as we're told."


	41. Lovers' Quarrel?

**A/N: To all of you who sent me PMs this past week or two, you are awesome. I've been working on updates when I can, but yes - I have been drowning in schoolwork. I'm desperately wishing I could find a Time-Turner somewhere. It didn't help that I was sick during my busiest week, so any extra time I did find went to sleeping and feeling miserable. Anywho, healthy now and have an update ready for you!  
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**This update did take a side road that I never saw coming until I was there, so I thought I'd venture on it for a bit.  
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**Thanks for your continued reviews and concern! It gets me through the stress!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 41**

Hermione craned her neck, squinting into the bright sunlight of the winter afternoon. The stands were filled with shouting students as they watched the indistinguishable figures of Cho Chang and Draco Malfoy streak across the sky in pursuit of a tiny glint of gold. Suddenly, one broom veered wildly to the side courtesy of a heart kick from the Slytherin seeker. The Ravenclaw quickly regained control of her broom, but it was already too late.

The Snitch snapped shut with a chirp as Malfoy's gloved hand engulfed it.

A roaring cheer sprang up from the Slytherin stands, while the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw fans erupted into hissing boos.

Hermione, however, said nothing as her eyes remained transfixed on the clouds, searching desperately for any sign of the blonde Slytherin. It was as if he had suddenly disappeared into thin air. Cho was gracefully descending back to the Pitch, but Draco was nowhere to be seen.

_Why wasn't anyone else noticing?_ Her heart was beating as she intensified her focus on the sky. _Where is he? Where did he go? He was right there and -_

A small scream escaped her lips as a hand clamped over her mouth.

"Looking for me, Mudblood?" he spat in her ear. "I thought I _told_ you to leave me _alone_!"

"I'm sorry!" she whimpered, panicking when he forcefully pushed her, causing her to stumble down the stands before she fell to the Pitch with a thump. The hissing of the Gryffindors seemed to grow louder as it followed her down to the turf.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes accusingly as he appeared in front of her. "You're one of his."

"No!" she cried, pulling herself to her knees and grasping at the edge of his Quidditch robes. "I swear I'm not! I'm _not_ one of his!"

"Oh, but you are!" He smiled wickedly as he leaned down to her. A gasp of fear escaped her as his handsome face suddenly morphed into the reptilian one of Lord Voldemort. "You… are… _mine_!"

The witch tried to scramble away from him, but he latched onto her cheeks with his frigid fingers. "_My_ beautiful Hermione!"

"No…no….no," she mumbled as she struggled to pull away from his gaze.

"But you see, _my_ darling girl," he smirked, "Severus no longer has any use for you –"

"No!"

"—and it seems, neither do I."

"No!"

The snakelike wizard pulled her face closer to his glowing red eyes. "Though, it does make me curious. Just what _has_ held Severus's attention for so long?"

She sobbed loudly, failing in her attempts to yank out of his hold. In the flash of an eye his nearly invisible lips descended upon hers and his writhing tongue slithered into her mouth.

Immediately her body erupted into convulsions as a piercing scream filled the air.

"Hermione!"

The shaking became worse, and her vision was beginning to fade. Her eyelids were slowly falling closed, and then everything went to black.

"Hermione, wake up!"

The witch's eyes flew open and she jumped at the sight of eyes above her. She slammed a hand over her mouth and scrambled backwards, before realizing that the Dark Lord was not standing above her. Instead, she was being watched by two visibly concerned roommates.

Ginny hesitantly touched her shoulder. "Hermione, are you alright?"

The girl in question swallowed back an unhealthy dose of adrenaline and covered her face with her hands. It had only been a dream. Draco _had_ caught the Snitch to win the match for Slytherin, but he had never disappeared from sight or tossed her from the stands. Voldemort had never materialized out of his body, and he had certainly never shoved his tongue down her throat.

Shuddering, she remembered the redhead was waiting for an answer. "I'm okay."

"What's wrong?" the youngest Weasley pressed as she perched cautiously on the edge of the mattress.

Hermione winced and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"You were screaming, Granger," Mathina countered.

"I was?"

Both of her roommates nodded their weary heads.

"I'm sorry," she sighed, wrapping her arms around her torso. "It was just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you. Please go back to sleep."

Mattie gave her an uncertain look, but nodded and slowly made her way back to her bed. The younger girl on the other hand, disappeared for only a moment before she returned to the bed with her pillow in hand.

"Budge up, 'Mione."

Hermione looked at her in confusion, but moved slightly to the side of the mattress. "What are you doing?"

Ginny smirked as she plopped her pillow down and scooted under the covers. "Well, I've noticed that you usually sleep better with a ginger in your bed, but Crookshanks isn't around, is he? And Ron's out of the question; thank you, Lavender. So guess it's me you're stuck with tonight."

"You're absolutely ridiculous," the brunette huffed as she flopped down and tugged her comforter over her shoulders.

"And yet you still love me."

"When have I ever said that?"

The redhead snickered and glanced over her shoulder. "Well, you haven't exactly kicked me out of the bed, now have you? Therefore you must have some fondness –"

"You know, Crookshanks doesn't speak," Hermione interrupted.

Ginny sighed, but let a smile creep on her face as she snuggled into her pillow.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The rest of the weekend had passed without further incident, and her residual headache had vanished completely by the end of her Monday morning classes. Beyond a raised eyebrow at the beginning of Potions, she had managed to avoid drawing any extra attention from Snape, which had made it easier to focus on his lecture instead of thinking about anything regarding the Dark Lord. When she did have time to let her mind wander, she had found herself increasingly glancing in Harry's direction, looking for any telltale signs that he had seen anything from when she had been summoned.

There had not seemed to be. Harry had been nothing more than friendly to her during Saturday's Quidditch match, inquiring after her phony massive Arithmancy assignment and quickly casting a _Muffliato_ so he could tell her about his progress in dueling himself. Since then, he had only shared exasperated looks with her whenever Ron and Lavender happened to be nearby.

Hermione knew she really ought to be relieved that he was perfectly oblivious to where she had gone after leaving him in the Room of Requirement, but something just was not setting well with her. His scar had burned with her last summoning, so why had it not done so for the second time?

The witch pondered this as she traced her hand along a shelf in the library. Her Arithmancy class had been let out early so the students could begin researching for their year-long assignment in which they had to develop their own number charts to predict the likelihood and location of a certain event. In her case, she had to figure out the probability of a natural disaster occurring sometime in April somewhere in the continental United States.

And so it was that Hermione found herself the only one of her class actually using the time as it was intended.

_Or attempting to, at least. _She sighed as she pulled out the book entitled _Figuring Fires, Floods, and Famines_ by Rubian Brook. Chewing on her lip, she leaned against the bookshelf and casually began leafing through the pages. Though picture after picture of devastation appeared before her eyes, the only thing she could think about was Harry and his mental connection with Voldemort.

_What was so different about this time than last?_ She frowned slightly and leaned her head to the side. _Professor Snape said that it happened because the Dark – Voldemort – was excited, but he seemed plenty excited this time, too. And why did he see it from the stupid snake's viewpoint? His connection is with Voldemort, not the snake. But that was what happened with Mr. Weasley, too, wasn't it? He saw the snake attacking him. But with Sirius – he saw the Dark – damn it – he saw Voldemort._

_It just doesn't add up_. She let out a small groan as she let the book gently close in her hands. "What is it I'm missing?"

"A strapping young man in your life."

Hermione squawked softly as she jumped and spun to face the intruder. She cursed inwardly at the sight of the cocky Gryffindor and chided herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings. _Again_.

"Cormac," she addressed him, dropping her voice into a cool warning tone.

"I do believe the two things could be synonymous, yes," he smirked, taking a few steps toward her.

Instinctively, she pushed away from the stacks and began stepping backwards. "I wouldn't exactly say that."

McLaggen tilted his head. "Then say you'll let me take you to Hogsmeade instead."

"I'm _not_ saying that either," she grumbled, quickly slipping back to her table to grab her small pile of books.

"Cheeky witch," he chuckled, suddenly appearing beside her and reached for the stack. "Let me carry those for you."

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying them myself," the girl huffed, snatching them out of his grasp. She immediately spun on her heel and began storming towards the front of the library.

"Oi!" Cormac called after her, earning himself a damning glare from Madam Pince as she signed the books into Hermione's possession. "We'll talk about this later, Granger!"

"Not if I have anything to do with it," the brunette muttered under her breath, punching open the library door. As she set off in a dead sprint down the hallway, she vowed to renew her efforts in dodging his attentions.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Despite her attempt, it seemed Cormac McLaggen was more determined to harass her than she was determined to avoid him. She had barely stepped foot out of Defense the following morning before he pounced on her, slipping his arm around her waist and steering her away from her intended direction.

Since Remus was still recovering from his monthly transformation, he had opted for a more formal lecture in lieu of a practical session. As was expected, Hermione found the need to take notes, unlike the majority of the class, and as such, she was the last to pack her bag and exit the room. Harry and Ron had begun making their way to History of Magic without her – though she doubted they had even realized it.

"What the _hell_ are you doing?" she seethed, yanking out of McLaggen's grasp as soon as she realized what was happening.

"I said we would talk about this later," the boy winked, leaning closer to whisper in her ear. "It's later."

"No! Just… no!" She snarled audibly and readjusted her book bag. "I'm not going to Hogsmeade with you!"

The witch moved to push past him, but he grabbed hold of her arm to prevent her from leaving. "You don't have detention again, do you?"

"No, I don't have detention," she hissed, "but I very well might if you don't let me get to class on time!"

"Old Binns wouldn't notice if you came in half an hour late, Granger," he smirked, stepping closer to her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and pulled her arm out of his grasp. "You've memorized my schedule now?"

"Well, when you're so determined to play hard-to-get, I have to get a little more creative."

"I'm _not_ playing hard-to-get," she spat with a glare. "And there isn't going to be any '_getting'_ with you."

Cormac donned a look of mock hurt and clutched at his chest. "You wound me, Granger."

"Good." The girl shuddered and made to leave.

"But I'm willing to overlook it," he added, following behind her. "Considering I _know_ I can change your mind."

"No, you can't."

"Aw, come now, Hermione! Give a bloke a chance!"

"You don't get it!" She shouted, whirling around and poking him hard in the chest with her pointer finger. "I am _not_ interested in a relationship with you! So _leave_ me alo –"

The clearing of a throat caused her to pause mid-tirade and snap her gaze to the side. Remus was leaning against the door frame of his classroom, staring at her with a sad expression. His skin was so pale it looked grey, and heavy dark circles rested beneath his eyes.

"Miss Granger," he sighed. "I believe you have a class to get to."

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, casting one last glare at the boy beside her before setting off in the direction of the stairs.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus cast a glance in the direction of the only pair of Gryffindors and raised one eyebrow in surprise as he noted Hermione was dicing her lemongrass with ten times more force than was necessary. He had noticed that she had been unusually silent at lunch, but had assumed it was due to the disgusting displays of affection being directed toward the idiot Weasley. He was starting to reconsider that explanation, however, since Potter was glancing at her in utter confusion.

With a sigh, he realized he really did want to know what had ruffled her feathers. As he stalked down the aisle between the two rows of tables, he mentally opened their connection. He watched her from the corner of his gaze, waiting until she had set down the blade to catch her attention. He did not want to risk startling her while she was repeatedly slamming a sharp object down with such frenzy.

'_Granger,_' he addressed her when she had let the knife clatter safely to the table top.

**'What?'**

Snape narrowed his eyes slightly at her angry tone. _'Has the lemongrass offended you in some manner?'_

**'No.'** He saw her sigh and drop her shoulders slightly as she gathered a handful of the herb and began sprinkling it into her cauldron. **'It's just… Well, since Remus thinks I'm whoring around anyway, am I just supposed to encourage that assumption?'**

The wizard coughed slightly in surprise and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he contemplated her question_. 'I have no idea, Granger.'_

'**No idea? _You_ have no idea?"**

_'Is that not what I just said?'_

**"But _you're_ the spy! You're supposed to know this!'**

He rolled his eyes slightly as he moved to observe another pair of students. _'Contrary to yourself, Miss Granger, I do not believe that I know absolutely everything.'_

'**Could have fooled me.'**

Severus tossed a mild glare in her direction and then instructed Hannah Abbot to stop mangling her bitterroot. He managed a few minutes' worth of pacing before sighing inwardly. _'Why does Lupin think you're engaging in wanton behavior now?'_

**'Cormac,'** came her irritated response as he peered into Terry Boot's cauldron. '**He won't let off about Hogsmeade. He thinks I'm playing bloody hard-to-get.'**

The professor grimaced visibly, causing the Ravenclaw boy in front of him to suddenly recheck the directions in a state of panic. The man stepped away with a look of amusement on his face and strode to the other side of the room. '_And what did you do to deter the blithering idiot?'_

**'I told him I wasn't interested. Screamed it actually, but then Remus interfered and sent me to class. Whether he took the hint or not, I don't know.'**

'_Are you forcing me to provide you with an impromptu Saturday activity yet again?_' He glanced up just in time to see her roll her eyes and shake her head slightly.

**'No. They barely believed I earned one detention, let alone two in a term. Besides, I was looking forward to getting out of the castle a bit…for something unrelated to spying or keeping secrets. No offense.'**

_'None taken.'_ He allowed a small quirk of his lips when he saw she was looking in his direction. _'I suppose we'll have to devise a new tactic then.'_

Hermione smirked as she dropped her eyes back to her brewing. '**I suppose so.'**

When she seemed to devote the entirety of her consideration to her present task, he quickly silenced her stream of consciousness and attempted to focus his attention on monitoring the brewing process. However, he could not help but find his mind wandering back to the Hogsmeade-McLaggen issue every now and then, and by the time the practical session had come to a close he had all but made up his mind regarding his course of action.

When the last student placed the stasis charm on their potion and disappeared through the door, he methodically checked to see that his classroom was in order before he warded the door and made his way to the staircase.

Ten minutes later, he was striding forcefully into the deputy headmistress's office.

"Severus," she warned without looking up from her desk. "One day I am going to lock that door and you are going to find yourself with a much flatter nose."

"Which staff members are chaperoning the Hogsmeade visit?" he questioned, ignoring her comment.

"You expect me to believe that you stormed into my office just to ask something you couldn't even be bothered to pay attention to during the last staff meeting?" McGonagall scoffed, glancing up from her work. When he offered no response as he stood awkwardly in the middle of her office, she sighed and set down her quill. "Pomona, Filius, and Septima are escorting the students on Saturday."

Snape took in a contemplative breath. "Tell Vector you've given her the weekend off."

The witch leaned back in her chair. "Pray tell for what reason?"

"Whatever reason you would deem appropriate," he shrugged, leaning against an armchair. "Perhaps, you can suggest she use the time to pull the sizeable stick out of her arse."

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Minerva tilted her head. "Are you volunteering to chaperone, then?"

When not a single protest met her question, her eyes widened in amusement and she sat taller in her chair. "Are you _ill_? Or dying? Oh, dear – am _I_ dying?"

"I don't find it as amusing as you do, woman," he scowled, crossing his arms.

"Merlin's pants, Severus – do you know how monumental this occasion is?"

"Yes, yes," he sneered bitterly. "Severus Snape is volunteering to watch the little urchins running around like chickens with their heads chopped off, stuffing their faces full of sweets and each other. Get out the bloody crystal, for god sake."

McGonagall chuckled and shook her head. "You know, I'm half tempted to owl the _Prophet_."

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, dropping into the chair.

"At the very least, I think I should ask Poppy to check you for fever."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Are you quite done?"

"Oh, no. Not quite." She smiled and folded her arms. "I have the overwhelming urge to document this in my personal diary."

"You don't keep a diary," he stated blandly.

"Oh, and just how would you know?" she queried with a grin. He gave her a pointed stare until she sighed. "Alright, fine. But mark my words, if I did, you can be assured I would have penned this just beneath your failure to notice Hermione's ability for an entire fortnight and your remarkable assessment of female leakage."

The wizard met her challenging eyes with a dangerous glare.

Minerva snickered and rested her arms on the sides of her chair. "I will ask Filius to stay back, then, if you're so keen on babysitting."

"I would prefer Filius's company."

"It may come as a shock to you, Severus, but I don't base my decisions solely on your preferences," she smirked. "I recognize your dislike for Septima – though, I cannot for all the galleons in Gringotts guess why – but I must choose what's best for Hogwarts. I ordinarily like to have two Heads of House in the castle at all times; surely, you've pieced that together by now."

"The Headmaster will be in the castle," he remarked drolly. "Surely, he must equate a Head of House."

The witch glared disapprovingly at his smirk. "Do not try my patience, Severus."

"I find it only fair I return the favor, Minerva."

She clucked in response, picking up her quill and pulling forth a magical calendar from beneath a stack of essays. "Was it _this_ Hogsmeade trip you wished to chaperone, or every Hogsmeade trip for the remainder of the school year? I find that my memory seems to follow my patience."

Snape sighed dramatically as he stood from the chair. "Fine. I'll deal with Vector if I must."

McGonagall watched as he stalked out of the room and shook her head bemusedly.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

After two days of successfully avoiding Cormac, Hermione was in rather good spirits. As soon as Transfiguration let out for the afternoon, she had quickly sprinted up the several flights of stairs and popped into the Gryffindor girls' dormitory for a few hours' worth of quiet before supper.

As it was, she was lying on her bed, staring up at the underside of the maroon canopy as she considered her options for Hogsmeade. Crookshanks, who had suddenly appeared shortly after her arrival, was content in his position atop her stomach.

_Devise a new tactic… devise a new tactic_… The girl sighed as she began scratching behind her familiar's ears. "You know, this was so much easier with Ronald. Lavender was entirely too easy a distraction."

Crookshanks began purring in a loud rumble and tilted his head to grant her better access.

"I can't really distract him if I'm the one he's dead-set on, can I? He's had practically the entire sixth and seventh year girls throwing themselves at him, and he isn't bloody interested." Hermione let out a frustrated puff of air and gnawed on her lip for a long moment. "And telling him that _I'm_ not interested isn't getting me anywhere."

When she stopped in her scratching, the ginger cat pointedly butted his head against her hand and fixed her with a demanding look.

"Ugh, you're trying to distract _me_, aren't you?" she groaned, resuming her task. "Maybe I should just try explaining to Cormac that you demand all of my attention and time, so I have nothing left for him."

The witch giggled softly at the satisfied expression that had appeared on his face, and then her eyes widened suddenly as inspiration struck. "What if I tell him that I already have a boyfriend? Do you suppose that would work, Crooks?"

The cat blinked at her in response, and she sighed. "He doesn't seem big on listening, does he?"

"Well, seeing is believing, isn't it?" she whispered a few minutes later. _ I could ask Harry to go with me. He wouldn't get the wrong idea if I tell him that I'm trying to avoid Cormac. Obviously, I won't be able to shop for him then, but perhaps I can place an order by owl later._

With that thought, a new depressing truth settled into her mind. Much to her cat's dismay, Hermione lurched forward and slapped a hand to her forehead. Since she had never gone to Diagon Alley to get her school things, she had never visited Gringotts. In addition, she had still been an underaged Muggleborn witch until recently, so she had never been able to procure her own vault in the Wizarding Bank and had been relying solely upon the exchange of Muggle currency her parents made for her every August.

Biting down on her lip, the girl slipped down from her mattress and quickly scampered over to her trunk. Frantically, she began digging through her possessions, looking for any spare change she could find. When she had finished with the trunk, she moved onto her wardrobe and desk. After an exhaustive search of her belongings, she had managed to collect one galleon, fifteen sickles, seven knuts, and three very wrinkled five-pound notes.

"Fifteen pounds," she mumbled, rubbing her forehead. "If I could exchange it somewhere for three galleons, I might be able to make it work."

Nodding in determination, she slipped the paper money into the pocket of her jeans and stored the pile of Wizarding coins in her desk drawer before making her way down to supper.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Is there a reason you asked that I bring my coat?" Hermione asked as she entered the hallway near the entrance to Snape's and McGonagall's quarters.

The dark-haired wizard raised an eyebrow from where he leaned against the wall. "Clearly."

"And the reason is?" she pressed, coming to a stop in front of him.

"You're going to need it," he smirked, spinning on his heel and making his way toward the secret passage.

The girl widened her eyes as she quickly stepped after him. "Are we apparating? In the snow?"

"I was not aware apparition was weather-dependent," he sneered lightly as they turned a corner.

"Well, no," she stammered, holding her coat tighter to her chest. "I agree that was a stupid question. It's just been a while since we've done this."

Snape tilted his head in acknowledgement as he held open a door for her. "All the more reason to resume the practice."

She snorted softly and nodded as they began walking again. They continued on in near silence until reaching the apparition point beyond the wards. Hermione quickly shrugged on her coat over her jumper and slipped on her hat and gloves. "The usual spot?"

"If you think you can manage."

Narrowing her gaze, she folded her arms across her chest and immediately spun in place. Her stomach screamed its protestations as she appeared with a loud crack a half-second later in the clearing of the Forbidden Forest.

The Slytherin Head arrived in near silence and met her challenging gaze with one of exasperation. "I assume you think you're clever."

"From time to time," she smiled.

"Well, turn about," he muttered. "Have you splinched yourself?"

Hermione slowly spun around with her arms extended, allowing him to cautiously sweep his eyes over her. "I don't believe so."

"Neither do I," Severus agreed a moment later. "Though you could leave half your hair behind and no one would be the wiser."

"Oh ha bloody ha," she rolled her eyes, dropping her arms to her side. "Now who thinks he's clever?"

"Temper, temper," he smirked, with a slight gleam in his eye. Clearing his throat, he adjusted the collar of his winter cloak. "Do you require further practice on your own, or are you fully confident in your abilities?"

The witch squirmed slightly and met his eyes. "Do you think I'm ready?"

"It does not matter what I think," he answered simply.

"I think it does," she mumbled before sighing. "Alright, I think I can handle it."

"You think –"

"I _know_ I can handle it!" the girl stated loudly.

Severus felt his lip twitch at the annoyed expression on her face. "Then we move on."

"To what?" she asked, curiosity settling upon her features.

"Side-along apparition."

Hermione frowned slightly and cocked her head. "I thought we did that fir – oh."

His mouth betrayed him as it twisted into a grin at the sudden widening of her eyes.

"You mean that _I_ have to apparate _you_?" She placed both hands on her head and let out a deep breath. "No way. Absolutely not."

The wizard snorted and shook his head. "Before you work yourself into an ulcer, I am not trusting the preservation of my person to you until you have proven yourself capable with something of less mass."

"Oh good," she whimpered, letting her gloved hands slide down her face. "And exactly what is the something with less mass?"

He took in a loud breath and raised his eyebrows in contemplation. "A sizeable sack of books…that silly, grovelling elf… your interloping Kneazle…"

"Whoa!" she interrupted. "Don't you dare bring Crooks into this."

"Cats are remarkably resistant when it comes to being apparated," he argued.

"That doesn't mean they're impermeable to splinching," she returned, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not risking him on something I've never done before."

Snape smirked and perched on the edge of the stump as he pulled forth a small package from his pocket. "Which is exactly why you're going to start with the sack of books."

Hermione watched as he returned the item to its original size and dropped it in front of her. As she picked the hefty bag up from the ground, she glanced at him in suspicion. "Why books?"

"If what you're apparating has no value to you, there is not the pressure to retain it in its original condition."

The girl narrowed her eyes and shook the sack lightly. "Exactly which books are in here?"

"A number of your more expensive textbooks along with your oft-read copy of _Hogwarts_: _A_ _History_," he replied; a sly grin creeping onto his face.

Her jaw dropped in horrified surprise. "But that isn't fair! What if I ruin them? I can't afford to –"

"It is in your best interest then, to exercise extreme caution when apparating them to the edge of the trees."

With a small huff, she set her mouth in determination and gripped the bag tighter. "Fine, but even if I do succeed, you better leave my sodding cat alone!"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

A few hours later, Hermione flopped onto her bed with a sigh. She felt physically drained after completing nearly two dozen apparition runs, and if it had not have been for her Herbology essay, she would have crawled into bed as soon as Snape had released her for the night.

Stifling a yawn, she glanced at her sleeping roommates and felt a small pang of guilt for leaving on the light on her desk. She leaned over to extinguish it, but paused upon remembering the sack of books on the floor. Slipping off of the mattress, she pulled open the bag and started re-shelving her texts. When she pulled out the last book _– Hogwarts: A_ _History_ – she gave a whimpering sigh and ran her hand across the familiar cover.

_Except it's not so familiar any more, is it?_ Her nose wrinkled as her fingers traced over the rough edges of where a large chunk had disappeared from the upper right hand corner. Her first attempt at side-along had resulted in the safe passage of all but this one book, and she had nearly cried upon discovering the damage. She had managed to keep her anguish over the tome in check, thought, for she was sure that Snape would find her attachment to it amusing.

And she had found it nothing close to amusing at his threatening her familiar. When she had finished the evening's session without causing any further damage to the books or herself, he had once again suggested that she complete future attempts at apparating with Crookshanks in tow.

_Not bloody likely, _she grimaced, dropping the ruined book onto her desk with a clatter. Realizing afterwards that it was currently past midnight, she looked nervously towards Ginny's and Mattie's unmoving forms. She relaxed upon seeing them still fast asleep, and turned to throw back the covers on her own bed.

"_Nox_," she whispered softly as she climbed in between her sheets.

Her eyes had just drooped shut, and she was just beginning to drift off to sleep when an audible cracking noise caused her to bolt upright. Without so much as a word, she brandished her wand – the end of it glowing blue with a wordless _Lumos_.

Large eyes reflected the wandlight, and the girl jumped backwards with a squeak.

"Dobby is sorry!" the elf cried, drooping his ears. "Dobby did not mean to scare Hermione Granger. Dobby only meant to give her the present from Master Snape, sir!"

"Shhh," Hermione cautioned, flicking her gaze quickly to her roommates. "You'll wake them up."

"Oh, Dobby is inconsiderate!" he wailed before whacking his head on the corner of her desk. "Dobby was told to be quiet!"

"Stop it. Stop it, Dobby!" she hissed, reaching out to grab the elf's arm. "You don't need to punish yourself. Please, stop."

When she heard Ginny beginning to shift in her bed, the girl swallowed nervously and cast a _Muffliato_. As she watched the elf continuing to beat his head against the leg of the desk, a number of her books were beginning to jar loose. "Dobby, stop!"

"But Dobby was bad! Master Snape, sir told Dobby to be quiet and to not wake up Hermione Granger!"

Rubbing her forehead in frustration, the witch shook her head and yanked the elf back from her desk. "You didn't wake me up, Dobby. I wasn't asleep. Now what did he give you?"

The elf shifted nervously on his feet, but held out a small coin purse.

"Thank you, Dobby," she said forcefully as she took it from him. "Good night."

The creature bowed and disappeared with another crack.

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes at the spot where he had stood. She then glanced down at the small bag in her hand. It was relatively heavy, and it rattled noisily when she shook it.

The witch frowned as she began untying the strings. She had given him her Muggle money after her apparition lesson – thankfully _that_ had remained in one piece – and he had agreed to consult the Gringotts' exchange rate in order to give her the equivalent in Wizarding currency. She had not expected for him to do so immediately, however, and the bag seemed exceptionally full to only hold a few galleons' worth.

_Did he pay me all in knuts?_ Settling back into her bed, she tipped the bag over and dumped its contents out on top of the duvet. Her eyes widened in surprise as she spread out the coins. She had been expecting something around three galleons, but instead he had given her nearly a dozen.

She shook her head as she began scooping the coins back into the satchel. _There's no way that the pound has quadrupled in value. No way._

A small smile crept on her face as she tucked the bag into the drawer of her bedside table. She promised herself that she would pay him back later, but for now she was content in the knowledge that she could afford presents for each of her friends.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Miss Granger, if you would – I'd like to speak to you for a moment after class."

Hermione cautiously glanced up at Remus as she packed her bag and nodded. She smiled at Ron and Harry as they filed past her and when the rest of the room had emptied out, she stepped toward his desk. Truthfully, she had been expecting this conversation since Tuesday morning and she was surprised it had taken him this long.

"Was there something you needed, sir?" she asked innocently.

Lupin narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "Hermione, is there something _you_ need to talk about?"

"No." She bit her lip as she shook her head.

The wizard exhaled loudly in response and lowered his chin. "I have tried to keep my distance from whatever it is you're going through –"

_Not hard enough, _she thought with a frown.

"—but the truth is, I'm concerned about you."

The witch crossed her arms and tilted her head. "I've told you before, sir. I'm fine."

"I'm not speaking to you as a professor," he sighed. "I'm speaking to you as a friend."

"Alright," she accepted. "In that case: _Remus_, I'm fine."

His eyes held a saddened glaze within them as he folded his arms against his chest. "What is the nature of the relationship between you and Cormac McLaggen?"

Hermione bristled at the question and fixed him with a pointed stare. "I don't see how that's any of your business, but there isn't one."

"Mr. McLaggen seems to think there is," Remus countered.

"Because he's delusional," she snapped. "And completely incapable of listening."

The professor closed his eyes for a few seconds and took in a deep breath. "Actions have a tendency to speak louder than words, Hermione."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked defensively.

"It means that men are easily confused," he offered with a hesitant smile. When she stared at him strangely, he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the floor. "It may be difficult for him to hear what you are saying if you are…encouraging him in…other manners."

The witch dropped her jaw in disbelief. "What?"

Remus winced at her reaction and wiped his face with one hand. "Hermione, I did not mean – "

"No, I don't care what you meant," she interrupted, quickly returning to her table. As she snatched up her book bag, she glanced back at him. "Perhaps he'll be discouraged enough then when Harry and I go to Hogsmeade together."

His eyes widened suddenly in surprise. "You and Harry?"

"Yes," she nodded forcefully. "Harry and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm certain there's a line of students waiting for your class."

"Let them wait, then," he responded. "I am under no obligation to allow them in until their scheduled time. We're still discussing –"

"I would rather not discuss anything further, actually," she said softly. "I'm supposed to meet Harry to work on Potions in the library."

Lupin grimaced as he watched her stride towards the door. Before she reached it, however, he called out, "I know what happened to you, Hermione."

The girl froze where she stood, staring blankly at the door. She waited a few seconds before expelling a throaty, "Good for you."

"I know that you were assaulted," he explained, ignoring her comment. "I understand how you must be feeling –"

"No, I really don't think you can, sir," she hissed, spinning back to face him. "I appreciate your concern, but do not pretend to understand what I'm going through."

Remus kept his eyes level and his voice steady. "I do not mean to trivialize anything, Hermione, but I do understand how it feels to have control taken away from you."

She had opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut upon second thought and looked to the floor in shame. Somehow she had temporarily forgotten about his being a werewolf even though the evidence had been on his face only a few days prior. Furthermore, her much earlier outburst of preferring lycanthropy to her current situation came unbidden to her mind.

Hermione winced at the memory and ran a hand through her hair. Given the choice now, she would undeniably choose to be bound to Professor Snape than to suffer transformations every month.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"You don't need to apologize to me," he responded softly. "But you _do_ need to take care of yourself."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I am attempting to. I promise."

"I don't just mean eating and sleeping, Hermione," the disheveled wizard stated, giving her a pointed look. "You are a strong witch. Do not allow anyone to ever think otherwise."

"Yes, sir," she whispered, draping one arm around her waist. She cleared her throat and turned toward the door. As she touched the knob, she blew out a deep breath and glanced over her shoulder. "Thank you, Remus."

He nodded and gave her a small smile. "Send in the third-years, if you would."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"It was awfully decent of you, Severus, to allow Filius to have a day off," Pomona chirped as the three Hogwarts professors strode along the crowded streets of Hogsmeade. "He _has_ been working exceptionally hard to make sure the castle is decorated precisely to the Headmaster's liking. A never-ending task, if you ask me."

"Awfully _unexpected_ of you, I might add," Septima smirked from her vantage above the Herbology Professor.

The wizard rolled his eyes and glared at a pair of fourth years who had dared get too close to him. "I am merely paying my dues for having missed chaperoning the last excursion."

"Ah, yes," the dark-haired witch responded with a wink. "You _conveniently_ had to oversee a detention with the school's top student."

Snape snorted at her in disdain. "I do not deny that she may be the highest-achieving student academically-speaking, but do not attempt to convince me that she is the best-behaved or the most well-mannered of students."

"You make a valid point," Pomona chuckled. "She has gotten herself into a number of situations over the years. Though, of course, she only did so when she felt that it was absolutely necessary."

"Your Hufflepuff sentimentality requires that you see the best in everyone, Pomona," he sneered.

"It does indeed, Severus," the plump witch said with a smile. "Though, it did not preclude me from observing that your Slytherin sensibilities required you to take advantage of Granger's ill choices in order to avoid escort duty."

"I do not believe that _I_ was the one taking advantage of Miss Granger's ill choices that day," he remarked off-handedly.

Sprout snorted and shook her head. "Nevertheless, a Saturday detention was a bit much…even for you."

The Potions Master smirked slightly as he glanced through the front window of Honeydukes. He could see Hermione looking over a selection of sweets with Potter in tow. He sighed at the thought of her plan of using the Boy Wonder as a shield against McLaggen, but he could not dismiss its merits. She had assured him that Harry would agree to serving as a stand-in date –understanding, of course, that it was strictly a pretense – because he was a dedicated friend who would not leave her to deal with the randy prat alone.

Severus had been loath to give his approval to the idea, though; until the little chit pointed out that the Dark Lord had demanded that she continue distracting the boy.

_"What's a better distraction than making him go to Hogsmeade?" she asked with a grin, grabbing his arm as they walked through the darkened tunnel. "Or better than involving him in my schoolgirl problems?"_

She had sunk his objections in one fell swoop. He knew that the Dark Lord would joyously welcome the news that Harry Potter was busy trying to keep her safe from the groping hands of a hormone-charged seventh-year instead of trying to keep the Wizarding World safe from an evil tyrant.

Her plan was indubitably clichéd and short-sighted, but it would do in a pinch.

Knowing that, however, was apparently not enough to keep him from gritting his teeth when he watched them exit the shop holding hands.

"Severus?" Sprout called. "Are you joining us?"

The man pulled his gaze from the Gryffindor students and glanced at the witch beside him, who was gesturing towards The Three Broomsticks. He took one look at the hopeful light in Vector's eyes and internally grimaced. "My apologies, Pomona, but I have errands to run."

"My, my – Severus Snape shopping?" A look of mock surprise crossed her face. "What _has_ the world come to?"

"I owe Minerva a gift as equally ghastly as the one she plans on bestowing me," he said flatly before meandering away from them. He could hear Pomona laughing as she made her way into the pub and he could feel Vector staring at the back of his head.

_Forget the Godric Gryffindor-scented bath salts she'll manage to find; I owe Minerva a heaping pile of shit simply for forcing me to put up with this._

He shuddered slightly at the thought of having to sit next to the Arithmancy professor for any reason outside of a professional function. In front of the staff she always tried to treat him with varying degrees of contempt and indifference, but he had discovered most unfortunately a few years prior that her true sentiments towards him lie on the opposite end of the spectrum.

It had been two nights before the Welcoming Feast the year Potter had been Sorted, and Snape had been drowning his sorrows at the Hog's Head, listening to Aberforth denigrate his brother. When the barkeep had been pulled away to manage a scuffle on the front step, the haughty witch had suddenly appeared beside him. She had criticized his amount of drink, sneered at the plainness of his robes, insulted the size of his nose, and then invited him upstairs.

He admittedly had consumed enough alcohol that had it only been for the fact she was seventeen years his senior, he likely would have taken her up on the offer. As it was, however, he was more than capable of holding a grudge even when decidedly pissed. After his mother had died, he had found a number of her diaries from her Hogwarts years, and from those he had discovered that she and Septima Vector had only been a few years apart. Though Vector had been a Ravenclaw, the two had been on the school Gobstones team together until Eileen had graduated.

They had been on terms of acquaintanceship when in school together, but as far as he knew, the two had never spoken again as a result of what had transpired near the end of the 1959 school year. Eileen Prince had been enamored with a student – Thomwell Chromas - that had graduated the year before her and had exchanged a multitude of letters with him over the year. He had promised to meet her in Hogsmeade during the final Hogwarts excursion, but an hour prior to their arranged meeting, Eileen caught sight of him through the window of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Thinking he had simply arrived early, she had pushed open the door in time to see him kiss the younger Septima. Heartbroken, she had abandoned the outing altogether, and immediately fled to the safety of the Slytherin dungeons.

Following the news of her mother's death the same week, Eileen had descended into a serious bout of depression. Disenchanted with the magical world, she slipped away from her father at the graduation ceremony and, as a result, ran headlong into Tobias Snape. Cast out of the Prince household upon the discovery of the illegitimate child growing in her womb, she had no choice but to crawl back to the drunkard and scrape out a measly existence in the Muggle realm. When she had prematurely given birth seven months after leaving school, she named her son after her father in a last ditch effort to repair their broken relationship.

Severus Adlum Prince, however, had experienced no softening of his heart, and so Severus Tobias Snape became the last in a sizeable line of men to have ruined Eileen's life.

"Sorry, Professor."

Snape snapped back to reality at the muffled voice. Glancing down, he observed the youngest Weasley step around him after almost having collided with his shoulder upon rushing out of Spintwitches. Before he could utter any sort of reprimand, the girl wiped her eyes and sped quickly out of sight.

_What the bloody hell was that about?_ He frowned and rolled his eyes before continuing on towards Tomes and Scrolls. He scowled darkly at the bell that cheerily announced his arrival at the bookshop and ignored the polite greeting from the young woman behind the counter. As he negotiated the familiar twists and turns of the book stacks, he allowed his mind to wander back to thoughts of his mother's misfortunate lot in life.

He was not foolish enough to hold Septima Vector personally responsible for the violent, downward spiral in Eileen's life. She had barely been sixteen at the time, and he seriously doubted that she had possessed any knowledge of Chromas's intentions towards his mother. In all honesty, he was not entirely convinced that the wizard had offered Eileen anything more than friendship since there were no letters left to be read. Eileen had burned them all in the Slytherin Common Room in 1959.

Furthermore, Severus suspected that Vector was not even aware that he was her schoolmate's progeny. She had never broached the topic with him, and it was highly unlikely that she would have made such a scandalous request of him had she known.

It was somewhat surprising, but very few actually appeared to know of his heritage. Muggle wedding ceremonies did not receive much attention in the Wizarding World, and next to no one seemed to have noticed Eileen's disappearance from the Prince family tree. Though he did have many features in common with the Princes, not many attributed him to the Pureblood name since those that knew Eileen Prince found it nearly impossible to fathom that she could have produced a child so soon after graduation.

And for everyone else, it was exceedingly difficult to notice the Prince cheekbones or eyes since no one seemed to be able to look past his father's nose.

Minerva knew of his mother's identity, of course, though apparently she knew nothing of Vector's role in Eileen's sudden depressive turn. Since Eileen was just as private of a person as was her son, it was likely that the only attributed cause of her melancholy was the death of her mother.

"Would you like this wrapped?" the shopgirl asked as he placed his single purchase upon the counter.

"Please," he grunted, leaning against the counter. As he watched the woman set about her task, he remembered his mother's shaky penmanship as she wrote about the new Transfiguration Professor politely offering to accompany her to the funeral.

With a sigh, he doled out the correct amount of currency in exchange for the elaborately-wrapped book and realized that he did, in fact, owe Minerva McGonagall a decent gift for more than just her recent help with Hermione.

_Though nothing bars it from being in Slytherin colors_, he smirked to himself as he pocketed his minimized purchase and exited the shop.

He strode about the crowded streets for several minutes, mulling over his options, before once again spotting the long, red hair of the Weasley girl. Casually he wondered what would have upset her enough to seek out comfort in Potter's arms in the middle of Hogsmeade two weeks before Christmas.

_Hold on. Potter?_ Snape halted suddenly in his tracks, causing a middle-aged witch to bump into him with a squeak. As she mumbled an apology and pushed past him, the wizard snapped his eyes back to the small alleyway beside Ollivander's Wand Shop. He paused long enough to ascertain the identity of the two individuals as Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter, and then cursed under his breath as he visually scoured the area.

_Where the hell is Hermione?_

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Merry Christmas," Hermione smiled to the clerk at J. Pippin's Potions as she grabbed the small bag from the counter. Her grin slowly faded upon exiting the apothecary, however, as her personal bodyguard was nowhere within sight. Having promised to be quick, she had suggested that Harry could stand outside and keep an eye out for Cormac while she made her purchase. He had said he would wait for her as long as they could stop by Spintwitches and look at the Quidditch supplies. She had agreed, but it appeared now that the boy had not held up his end of the bargain.

"Harry James Potter," she muttered beneath her breath as she walked along the edge of the street, "I am going to kill you."

She peeked through the surrounding shop windows and explored a few of the nearest side streets looking to no avail. Making up her mind to head to Spintwitches to check for him there, she quickly spun around and ran full tilt into Cormac McLaggen.


	42. Feeling Sluggish

**A/N: Thank you so much for continuing to read and review! This chapter is slightly shorter than the others just because my planned update was getting super lengthy, so I've broken it into two chapters - which means you get half of it sooner than you would have!**

**Life is hectic, so I appreciate your understanding! I will work on _Rumored in Love_ when I can! I have not abandoned it! I love you all!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 42**

_"Cormac, I need to go. I don't want to deal with you right now."_

_"Aw, come on, Granger. Stop being such a tease."_

Snape growled under his breath as he quickly made his way through the crowded street. The girl was calculating her escape route in her head, which gave him everything he needed to pinpoint exactly where she was. It was only a matter of getting through the throngs of slow-moving shoppers before the thick-headed fool went too far. He already had his hand around Hermione's wrist and was keeping her from re-joining the main thoroughfare.

_"I'm not teasing! I have to meet Harry."_

_"Oh, give it a rest, witch. You don't need to parade Potter around anymore. You're not fooling anyone, you know. I know perfectly well what you're doing."_

_"I'm not kidding, Cormac. Let go of me now."_

_"Why should I?"_

"Fuck," Severus hissed, pushing past the corner of an outdoor display. McLaggen had her pinned against the fence behind the Three Broomsticks, and her panic was rising exponentially as the boy pushed even closer to her.

_"I'm warning you –"_

_"Stop talking, Granger."_

Specks of snow flew in all directions as the Slytherin Head appeared abruptly in the small lane behind the busy pub. He immediately withdrew his wand upon witnessing the boy move in for a kiss, but suddenly froze when a jet of green light shot forth from the wand clutched in Hermione's hand.

Severus felt his heart stop beating for a split second, and the world suddenly seemed to have gone silent as the boy stumbled back from her tense form. Slowly, however, his brain began to kick in and he realized that Granger could not have just used the Killing Curse. There had been no murderous intent to her thoughts; only the need to defend herself. Furthermore, McLaggen was still clearly still alive, albeit undeniably bewildered.

"What was that?" the boy spluttered, looking at his chest and then back at the girl in front of him. "Granger, what the fu –"

Snape raised an eyebrow as the question was interrupted by rather odd-looking vomit spewing out of the student's mouth.

Hermione grimaced and stepped slightly farther away from the pile of slime between them. She knew that Cormac was too busy staring down in horrified shock at the grey slug that had erupted from his mouth to notice her slipping out of his reach. Feeling a pair of eyes on her, she glanced down the lane and relaxed significantly.

The professor caught her gaze and smirked haughtily as he stepped fully into sight. "Well, well, well…what have we here?"

She bit down on her lip to keep from snickering as Cormac fearfully spun to face the newcomer. Shakily, he extended his arm towards her and stammered, "She hexed me!"

"Is that so?" Severus lazily shifted his eyes toward the girl and tilted his head. "Detention again, Miss Granger? Twice in one term, I believe that makes. Quite the fall from grace."

The young witch pinched her eyes shut and ducked her head as she fought the urge to laugh out loud.

Snape glanced back to McLaggen and rolled his shoulders. "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

The boy's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. "But, sir! That's not fair! I shouldn't –"

A large green slug tumbled forth from his mouth and landed atop the professor's dragonhide boot with an audible squelching noise. Severus glared at the mess on his foot and slowly raised his gaze to Cormac's panicked face. Raising both eyebrows, he sneered. "You've just earned yourself a month's detention, McLaggen…with Mr. Filch."

The younger wizard gulped loudly and dropped back a number of steps, covering his mouth with both hands.

Snape angrily slashed his wand at his foot, vanishing the mess, before pointing in the direction of the Hogwarts Castle. "The two of you have just forfeited the remainder of your Hogsmeade visit. I suggest you start moving."

Grateful for an escape from the village, Hermione immediately spun on her heel and started down the path. She looked up a moment later when she sensed the Potion Master falling into step beside her. The expression on his face was foreboding, but when he briefly flicked his eyes to her, she noticed they held no real anger. Feeling a slight heat to her cheeks, she peeked over her shoulder to see Cormac stumbling disgruntledly behind them.

She winced a few seconds later when she watched him cough up another slug.

With an exasperated sigh, Severus paused long enough to wait for the boy to finish gagging and put himself back to rights. As intrigued bystanders – students and Hogsmeade denizens alike – began collecting to gawk at the trio, the wizard scowled and grabbed hold of McLaggen's cloak. He proceeded to haul the student past the crowds, barely managing to make it to the outskirts of the village before releasing his hold on the boy so the boy could release _his_ hold on a rather large, purple slug.

Snape crossed his arms in impatience as the Gryffindor seventh-year slowly stood upright once again, and the three began making their way down the snowy path in the direction of the castle grounds. When they were forced to another slug-induced stop a few moments later, he tossed a look toward Hermione, who was pinching her lips together in a mixture of pride and disgust.

As they started walking, he let his voice slide across her conscience. **'Granger, how long does this last?'**

A smile quirked onto her face as they paused again to allow Cormac time to expel another gastropod. _ 'I assume another five minutes or so.'_

His eyes shot to her immediately. **'You assume?'**

_'Well, I've only witnessed it once,_' she shrugged almost imperceptibly, _'so I don't know if it affects everyone the same way.'_

**'When exactly did you have the chance to witness this?'**

_'Second year. Ron tried using it on Malfoy the first time he called me a Mud –well, you know.'_

Severus huffed angrily, scowling as he watched McLaggen double over once more. **'I have no recollection of Draco ever vomiting slugs, and you can be damned certain he would have been sniveling upon my doorstep, demanding Weasley's immediate expulsion had it happened.'**

Hermione shook her head slightly, nervously biting down on her lip as Cormac shot her an icy glare. _'I said 'tried,' didn't I? If you remember, that was when Ron's wand was broken. The spell back-fired and Ron ended up the one puking slugs into a bucket for a quarter hour or so.'_

The man snorted softly in amusement and glanced at the boy who was picking himself up from the ground. Recognizing that his color had improved and was likely past his bout of vomiting, Snape picked up his stride. "Enough dawdling."

Cormac wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and glared at the back of the Slytherin Head. As Hermione made to follow, the boy quickly snatched hold of her arm and yanked her closer to him, causing her to squeak in surprise.

"You're a foul bitch, Granger," he hissed under his breath.

"Five points for language, McLaggen," Severus stated coolly without so much as looking over his shoulder.

The younger wizard looked up in surprise and snarled. "How the fuck can he hear me?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione ripped her arm out of the boy's grasp and quickly began moving down the path.

"Greasy bat," Cormac muttered as he slowly followed after her.

The witch had nearly caught up with the Potions Master when the sudden sound of loud retching caused her to stop in her tracks. A concerned expression crept upon her face as she glanced back in time to see two sizeable slugs erupt from the handsome boy's mouth.

"I didn't do that!" she whispered hotly when she made it within earshot of Snape.

"Oh, of _course_ you didn't," he sneered.

Hermione narrowed her eyes bitterly before noticing the trace of amusement on his face. She dropped her jaw slightly as she glanced between Cormac and Snape once more. _'Professor Snape, did you just hex a student?'_

Severus looked down at her with eyes widened in feigned ignorance. **'Whatever would give you that impression?'**

_'The fact that he's started up again, maybe? And even worse now!'_

The corners of his mouth turned upwards as they continued walking. **'You said yourself that you've only seen it once. Perhaps it simply affects him differently.'**

The girl shook her head in disbelief. A similar smirk spread across her face as she spoke softly. "Perhaps."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Two hours after being sent to her dormitory, Hermione found herself at one of the tables in the Gryffindor Common Room, buried elbow deep in the essays that were due prior to the end of the term. With all of the older students in Hogsmeade and the younger students intimidated by her Prefect status – and with Cormac ensconced in the infirmary, demanding attention – she had remained virtually unmolested in her work.

She was just finishing the concluding paragraph of her Charms essay when the opening of the Fat Lady's Portrait caught her attention. Ginny caught her questioning gaze as she stepped through the hole and gave a weak smile before moving towards the girls' dormitory.

As her roommate disappeared up the stairs, Hermione shifted her gaze to the dark-haired boy who had appeared in front of her.

Harry bore an apologetic expression on his face as he pulled out the chair across from her. "Look, I'm really sorry, Hermione. It's just…Ginny was crying, and I just wanted to make sure she was alright."

The girl raised one eyebrow. "You mean you wanted to score points with her in while she's in a vulnerable state."

"No," he stated defensively. "That's not –"

Setting down her quill, she interrupted him with a loud sigh. "_Are_ she and Dean fighting?"

Taken slightly off-guard, the boy nodded. "I think so. She wouldn't actually tell me why, though."

Hermione leaned back in her chair. "I know that it isn't what you want to hear, Harry, but that doesn't mean she's through with him."

"But she was so upset, she was crying!"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "If women were to leave men every time men make them cry, the entire species would have died out already.

"And even if…" Hermione paused as a group of boisterous fourth-years came stumbling through the Portrait Hole. Leaning slightly across the table, she dropped her voice to nearly a whisper. "Even if they are breaking up, that doesn't mean you should immediately sweep in to pick up the pieces."

"Well, I know that Ron will be upset, but –"

"I'm NOT talking about Ron, Harry!"

As several students glanced in their direction, the girl winced. When their interest died away, she surreptitiously cast a _Muffliato_.

"I'm talking about Ginny. If you want a relationship with her – not a fling, but an actual relationship – then you will have to wait until she's ready. She can't fall out of Dean's arms and into yours."

"Why not?" he asked with a look of indignant confusion written upon his face.

"Because then you'll just be a replacement for him," she took in a deep breath and straightened the edge of her parchment. "If you want her to be with you because you're you, then you have to give her the time and space she needs to move on."

Harry narrowed his eyes and poked his finger into the table. "And what if when I'm giving her all this space, she goes back to Dean?"

"Then that's what she does!" the witch shouted, gesturing with her hands. "If you and she are meant to be, then you will be. But if she's meant to be with you, and you get in the way, it's not going to end well for your friendship."

The boy suddenly appeared crestfallen and he sank into his seat. "You think they are –"

"Harry, I don't know," she snapped, shaking her head. "I just know what I see, and what I see is that she and Dean both genuinely care for each other. How deep that feeling goes is something only they can know."

With a loud sigh, he scratched his head and then leaned both elbows on the table. "What if Dean's the one in the way?"

Hermione snorted and rubbed her temple. "Harry, you're acting like he stole her away from you. Might I remind you that you were the one who wasn't interested. She fawned over you for four years, and you had eyes for Cho instead. You can't blame Dean for stepping in when you were ignoring her."

The wizard wrinkled his nose in distaste, but finally nodded in acknowledgment. A smirk crept on his face a moment later. "In that case, then, you can't blame Lavender, either."

"What?"

Harry cocked his head. "Ron's liked you for years, and you haven't given him the time of day. Now he's with Lavender, and I know you don't like it."

"For your information, Ron didn't bloody notice me until I showed up at the dance with Viktor. Before that, I was just one of the boys to him." Cancelling the _Muffliato_, she shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Besides, Lav-Lav's had a thing for him since first year, practically. She _could_ be the one, for all anyone actually knows."

He grimaced and shuddered. "But she's so… Lav-Lav."

Hermione snickered, dropping her voice slightly as Ron appeared in the Portrait Hole. "And he's so…Won-Won."

Harry made to offer a retort, but was cut off by a wide-eyed redhead rushing up to the table.

"'Mione, did you _really_ do it?" Ron asked breathlessly.

"Do what?" she asked casually, rising from the table and gathering her books.

"Do _what_?" he mimicked, shaking his head. "Hex McLaggen!"

"Oh, that." The girl scratched her eyebrow. "Yes, I did do that."

"What?" Harry paled as he slowly stood. "McLaggen tried something with you?"

She tossed him an irritated look. "Of _course_ he tried something, Harry. The minute I was alone, I knew he was going to try something. That was the entire point of going with you."

The dark-haired boy swallowed nervously before speaking in a darker tone. "What happened?"

"What _happened_? What happened!" Ron shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "What happened is she bloody hexed him! With the Slug Vomiting Spell even!"

Before she had a chance to react, he tossed his arm around her shoulders. "Not that I would wish that on anyone save for Malfoy, but she was bloody brilliant!"

"It was not brilliant, Ronald," she chastised, closing her eyes as she attempted to shrug out of his grasp.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry!" Harry exclaimed. "I just assumed you had come back when you didn't find me."

"I was _escorted_ back, thank you very much."

"Escorted?" he repeated. "By who?"

"By _whom_," she corrected as she picked up her stack of books. "And it was by Professor Snape. He also assigned me detention on Monday night."

"Stupid git," Ron hissed.

With a glare, she spun toward him. "Actually, he was being exceptionally fair, I thought. I did attack a student, didn't I? In full view of a teacher, no less."

"Well, yeah," he stammered. "But he bloody well deserved it."

Hermione snorted and let a devious grin onto her face. "Cormac vomited a slug on Professor Snape's foot. He now has a month's worth of detention."

The redhead's eyes widened exponentially and his jaw dropped in absolute shock. Grabbing both of her shoulders, he shook his head in disbelief. "Merlin, 'Mione – I could kiss you right now."

"Not unless you want to drop slugs in a bucket again," she warned with a dangerous stare.

Laughing, he let go of her and looked toward Harry. "I was right about her, wasn't I? She's scary. Brilliant, but scary."

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione ducked around the two giggling boys and started making her way toward the girls' dormitory. Feeling as though she were being watched, she glanced up and noticed that Lavender was standing beside the fireplace, staring directly at her. The brunette looked over her shoulder to her friends before meeting her former roommate's gaze again. Recognizing the other girl's uncertainty, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and attempted a small, reassuring smile.

When she received a dark glare in return, she sighed and quickly scampered up the staircase.

_It's not like she has anything to worry about_. She shook her head in frustration before pushing open the door to the Prefects' room. Upon seeing Ginny curled up on her bed, sniffling into her pillow, Hermione bit back another sigh and moved to deposit the stack of books on her desk. "You alright, Gin?"

There was a slight pause before the girl gave a muffled "Noo…"

"Is it Dean?"

"Yeeess," she whined without unburying her face.

"What did he do?"

Ginny only grunted sadly in response, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and cross her arms. "Did he cheat on you?"

"No."

"Okay," she answered slowly. "Did he flirt with someone else?"

"No."

"Did he accuse you of doing something?"

"No."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he say something offensive?"

"No."

"Did he – Oh sod it, Gin!" Hermione shouted, losing her patience. "I'm not going to play twenty questions with you. What the hell is wrong?"

Hiccupping slightly, the redhead finally rolled over. She propped herself up with one hand and wiped her eyes with the other as her voice shook. "He w-wants to m-marry me!"

The brunette's eyes widened in absolute shock. "What?"

"He wants to marry me, but I'm not r-ready for th-that!" Ginny shouted in a panicked tone. "I'm fif-fifteen years old, for Merlin's sake! I c-can't get married now!"

Hermione slowly sank down on the edge of her bed. "He proposed to you?"

Her roommate grimaced and shook her head. "Not…not exactly."

"But he said out loud that he wants to marry you?" she pressed.

"Well, no."

The older witch frowned and narrowed her eyes. "Then why do you think that he does?"

"Because!" Ginny shrieked before calming down slightly. "Because he invited me to his house for New Year's!"

Completely taken aback by the statement, her friend struggled to respond. Finally, she settled for a simple, "So?"

"So! So you bloody well know what that means!"

Feeling suddenly on the defensive, Hermione slammed her hands on the mattress beside her and shook her head. "No, I don't bloody well know what that means!"

The other girl sighed and pulled herself fully into a seated position. "A man only invites a witch to his family estate so that his family can p-pass j-judgment on whether or not she's w-worthy to bear the name and b-bear the next g-generation."

"You've gone absolutely nutters," the brunette whispered.

"No, I haven't! That's how it is in the Wizarding World, Hermione!" Ginny protested. "If Dean's family approves of me, then he'll go to my father and ask f-for my h-hand…Why the hell are you laughing, Hermione? This isn't funny!"

The curly-haired witch only paused slightly in her giggling when a maroon pillow was launched at her head. Eventually, she quieted down and wiped her face. "Ginevra Weasley, you are completely over-reacting."

"No, I don't really think I am!"

Hermione sighed as she hugged the pillow. "Gin, Dean's not a pureblood."

"What does that have to do with anything?" the redhead asked, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"He's Muggle-born like I am."

"He doesn't know that though," Ginny shook her head. "He thinks his dad may have been a wizard, so that would make him a halfblood."

The older girl took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "The point I'm trying to make is that he was raised as a Muggle. He doesn't know all of the Wizarding customs that you do. If I didn't know about this ridiculous assumption, then I find it highly likely that he doesn't either."

As realization finally dawned on the younger witch, she covered her face with her hands and stared vacantly into the room for several minutes. Finally she lowered her hands to her lap and fixed her roommate with a serious gaze. "I told him I couldn't and then ran away. I felt horrible about it, so I went back to find him, but he wasn't there. I completely lost it, and that's when Harry found me."

Sighing gently, Hermione let go of the pillow, and stood from her bed. She sat down next to her friend and allowed the other girl to wrap herself around her.

Ginny took in a long, shuddering breath and rested her head against the brunette's shoulder. "Do you think he hates me now?"

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "But I think you need to talk to him and explain your meltdown."

"I can't! He's going to think me a complete idiot!"

"Well, if the shoe fits," Hermione whispered, causing the younger girl to erupt in a fit of giggles.

"I bollocksed it all up!" she whimpered a few seconds later.

The older witch simply nodded in response.

Exhaling slowly, Ginny pulled away from her friend and pulled her knees close to her chest. "So what does it actually mean?"

"What does what mean?"

"Dean inviting me to his family's house," she clarified. "What does it really mean?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose as she thought of an explanation. "I don't really know, I guess. I mean, it can be sort of like what you thought – but not nearly to that extreme, and especially not when the two of you are so young. Maybe in some way he wants to know that his parents like you, but I think it's more that he wants them to get to know you. I think he just wanted to spend time with you on holiday."

"That's it?"

She shrugged and nodded. "Really, that's all."

"Oh, Merlin," Ginny whispered, resting her chin atop her knees. "If I had known that, I would have just said yes. That sounds nice, actually."

"So then go find Dean, tell him that you're an idiot, and explain everything to him. If you're lucky, maybe he'll still invite you."

The redhead groaned and flopped back against the mattress. "You make it sound so easy."

"There are more difficult things in life," Hermione commented sharply, moving back to her own bed. "Believe me."

"I know," the younger girl sighed, rolling over and pushing herself off of the bed. "I suppose I should go find him before he realizes that he's better off without me."

"Erm, Gin?"

"Yeah?" she asked, pausing by the door.

"So that's really what it means in the Wizarding World?"

"Yes, it is. Why?"

The brunette shook her head and smoothed her hands along her thighs. "No reason. I was just curious is all."

"Okay." Ginny gave a weak smile and made an effort to smooth down her hair and her clothes. "Wish me luck, I guess."

Hermione bore a supportive smile until the girl disappeared down the stairwell. She then pulled her pillow to her chest and curled into a ball in the center of her mattress. Taking in a number of short breaths, she tried to stave off the tears that were forming as thoughts of a certain Bulgarian Quidditch player danced in her head.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As they walked silently through the corridors on Monday evening, Severus glanced down at the girl beside him. Noticing the strained look on her face, he sighed and cleared his throat. "You seem preoccupied."

Hermione snorted and wrinkled her nose. "That's probably because I am."

The man studied her for a moment as he held open a door for her. When he fell in step beside her once more, he raised an eyebrow in question. "Dare I ask?"

"Ugh, where do I even start?" she lamented, rubbing her eyebrow. She remained silent for nearly a minute before sighing and shaking her head. "Let's see…hexing Cormac definitely worked to deter his interest, though it worked a little too well because now he completely despises me. As do all of the seventh year boys and all of the girls in the upper three years. Well not _all_ of the girls, I guess. Apparently there are still a few girls who tend to stay angry at the boy who broke their hearts. But a majority of them think I'm a cold-hearted bitch."

She took in a deep breath as they rounded a corner. "And then there's Lavender, who thinks I'm trying to steal her boyfriend from her, because hexing Cormac caught Ron's attention again. He was so entertained by it that he joked he was going to kiss me in front of her. Even though I clearly stated that I would hex him if he so much as tried, Lavender is mad that I'm _seducing_ him. Stupid cow.

"And Remus!" she cried, throwing one hand up in the air. "Oh, Remus is disappointed in me because in his mind I've brought all of this upon myself because of my behavior. Because he thinks that not only was I sleeping with Draco, but I've been sleeping with Cormac as well, and I've been stringing him along with casual sex, but denying him an actual relationship, which was why he wasn't getting the message. Not because he's a prat who doesn't listen because he thinks the entire bloody world is in love with him.

"And Remus undoubtedly thinks I'm doing the same thing to Harry." She grimaced briefly and ducked her head. "That's _actually_ my fault, though. I realize now that I may have encouraged that assumption more than I meant to. He probably thinks that's why Harry was mad at me yesterday."

Hermione wiped her face and tossed an irritated look to the wall. "Harry's trying to pretend he's not angry with me because he feels guilty that he left me alone in Hogsmeade, but I know that he's still upset. He's moping around because I told him to leave Ginny alone until she's decided once and for all that she's breaking up with Dean. And since the two of them of have made up, Harry's even more disappointed.

"And that whole thing was entirely stupid. It was all just one misunderstanding that Ginny blew way out of proportion. Dean had apparently invited her to his home for New Year's, and she went mental on him because in the Wizarding World that means something way more than it does in the Muggle one. I had to tell her that he probably didn't know that, seeing as he's essentially a Muggleborn. She finally talked things out with him, and got it sorted at least."

The girl drew in a long breath and wrapped her arms about her waist. "And even though she's completely out of her head, I understand her reaction. It kept me up half the night thinking about her bloody assumption, because if she's right, then I seriously mistook Viktor's intentions during fourth year. He invited me to his home in Bulgaria, but I never would have equated that with a sodding proposal of marriage. I mean, he did say that he'd never felt about another girl the way he felt about me, but I thought it was just an exaggeration. He was eighteen, for Merlin's sake, and I was only fifteen. How could he possibly be that sure of something like that at that age?

"It's impossible, but now I don't know what to think. Maybe Rita Skeeter was actually right about something. Maybe I was stringing him along without even knowing I was." Hermione bit her lip as she stepped off the bottom step of a staircase.

"God, that would be positively horrid if she were flitting about the castle now. Even without her, people think I'm a bitch and a tease and a whore." She sneered in disgust and rolled her shoulders. "I didn't think it was physically possible to be all of those things at once, but apparently I am.

"Even though the _only_ person I'm having sex with is you," she sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. "The only person that I'll _ever_ have sex with."

Upon slowly looking over her shoulder, she noticed him pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"What? _You_ asked!"

Snape flicked his gaze to her face and squared his shoulders. "If I recall correctly, I merely inquired as to whether or not I _should_ ask."

The girl winced and adopted a guilty expression. "Oh, you did, didn't you? Erm, sorry."

"This is precisely why I needed to silence our connection," he sneered, pushing past her as they moved toward the apparition wards.

"I said I'm sorry," she hissed. "It's not my fault that you're easy to talk to."

Severus narrowed his eyes significantly. "_You_ must be the one out of your head if you think that to be true."

"But it is!" she protested as she felt the tingling of the wards pass across her body. "Even if I _could_ talk about some of this stuff with Ron or Harry, they would have interrupted me fifteen minutes ago and told me to stop worrying or they would have told me that it's impossible to think about that many things at once. You actually let me ramble on, and even if you weren't listening, it still made me feel better."

"You've set your level of expectation exceptionally low with Potter and Weasley," he stated, fastening his winter cloak. "I imagine a potted plant would provide more intelligent conversation."

Hermione smirked as she buttoned her coat. "Well, I guess if I'm that desperate for intelligent conversation, I could just come find you."

He cast a dark look over his shoulder. "There is no need for flippancy."

"I'm not being flippant," she argued as she pulled on her gloves. She shook her head and sighed. "Honestly, I don't know how you can do it – how you can let everyone think all these horrible things about you when they're not true."

Snape crossed his arms as he waited for her to put on her hat. "There is nothing that is said about me that is not deserved."

"Well, unless you're actually a vampire and eat children, I beg to differ," she smiled. "But I don't think you deserve any of it."

The wizard looked to the ground in discomfort. He cleared his throat a moment later and raised his eyes to hers. "The Bulgarians traditionally marry quite young. It would not be out of the ordinary there for a wizard to take a fifteen-year-old bride. I am quite certain there are some who marry even younger."

Her eyes widened slightly. "That's disgustingly archaic."

He grunted in agreement. "You'll also find they place less importance on the family of the bride than do the British. Rarely, if ever, do they seek their approval for the match."

"So what you're saying is," she took in a gasping breath and held up a gloved hand with her thumb and pointer finger an inch apart, "I came this close to being a fifteen-year-old bride?"

When he nodded slowly, she covered her cheeks with her hands and shook her head. "Holy shite."

"And yet you were only allowed one further year of freedom," he muttered bitterly as he adjusted his own pair of gloves. "Bulgaria undoubtedly would have been the preferable option."

Hermione bit down on her lip and blinked away the start of a few tears. Cautiously, she took a step forward and slipped her arms around his torso, resting her head against his collarbone. "I would prefer Hogwarts, no matter the price. I belong here, helping Harry."

He took in a deep breath and stiffened slightly. "If you wouldn't mind, Granger, there are other things I need to get done tonight."

Nodding, she stepped back from him and folded her arms against her chest. "Thank you, though."

"For what?" He raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"For actually listening," she smiled.

"I always listen," he stated softly, pulling something out from his pocket and magically resizing it. He then handed the large sack to the girl, who took it cautiously.

"You stole my books again?" she sighed.

"I did not _steal_ your books. I merely borrowed them temporarily," he corrected with the raise of an eyebrow. "And no. These are _my_ books, which you will be responsible for replacing should anything happen to them. Is that understood?"

"Yes," she mumbled sadly, shaking the bag. "I shall see you in a few seconds, I guess."

Focusing deeply, she clutched the books close to her chest and pictured them all appearing in the usual clearing. There was a tug at her navel, the world seemed to spin inside out, and then abruptly stopped with a loud snap.

Hermione took in a steadying breath and dropped the sack of books on the ground.

"Do you always treat others' possessions with such carelessness?"

The girl spun around in a jolt, absently clutching at her chest. "How the hell do you do that?"

Severus bore an amused expression as he stalked past her and picked up the sack. "I had assumed that by now you would be proficient in the mechanics of apparition, Granger."

"But you do it silently," she clarified, watching as he carefully began examining each book.

"A trick learned after several years of practice," he explained as he set down one tome and picked up another. "Once we're certain you have fully constructed your basic skillset, we will work on polishing the aesthetics."

"Mmm, can't wait," she mumbled softly while watching his scrutiny progress. When at last he had gone through the entire bag, she raised her eyes expectantly. "Well?"

Calmly he began refilling the sack. "It appears you do not owe me any new books on this run."

The girl gave a small laugh of success and then watched him stand to his full height. "Am I to do it again?"

"There is no point in continuing on in if you are both confident and competent at that level," he stated, adjusting the cuff of his robes. "Thus we take it to the next stage."

"Do not tell me you have my cat in your pocket!" she hissed, holding up a finger in warning.

"Don't be absurd," he sneered. "You will now apparate me to the tree line."

All color drained from her face and she shook her head emphatically. "I'm not ready for that."

"There is no real difference in what you have just done and what you must do."

"The hell there isn't!" she shrieked. "Books don't bleed if I bollocks it up!"

Snape sighed loudly. "Granger, you will do perfectly fine. I guarantee that you will not do more injury to my person than I have done to myself."

"But what if I splinch you?" she asked desperately.

The wizard slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a slender dark green bottle of Essence of Dittany. He pressed it into the palm of her hand and fixed her with a pointed look. "Then you will apply that to the wound and you will do better on the next venture."

Hermione dropped the vial into her coat pocket and closed her eyes. She took in several calming breaths, rocking on her heels for nearly two minutes before she resigned herself to the task. "Alright, I can do this."

He watched in silence as she nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to figure out what to do.

"Do I just, erm, hold onto your arm?" she asked hesitantly.

"That is an option," he responded in a thoughtful tone. "However, it is generally easier to Side-Along someone the closer they are to you."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," he repeated, lifting his arms slightly, "I'm actually giving you permission to throw your arms around me this time."

The witch snickered softly and slowly moved toward him. With her heart beating rapidly, she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against him for the second time that evening. Closing her eyes again, she attempted to calm her nerves before making the jump.

"We do not have all night," he murmured after waiting half a minute.

"I'm focusing, alright!" she answered, tightening her grip.

"Granger, if you cannot handle a human being, I will send for that beast of yours."

Scowling, she buried her face into his shoulder, squeezed him as tightly as she could, and focused entirely on the tree line. Nearly immediately, she felt herself being pulled through an invisible tube, and with a loud crack the pressure subsided.

Opening her eyes slowly, she relaxed a bit upon seeing that there was still a warm body pressed against hers.

"You may let go now."

As she expelled a shaky breath, Hermione allowed her arms to fall to her sides and she took several steps backwards. "Are you alright?"

The man gave a cursory glance to his limbs, before spinning in place. "If you do not see any gaping wounds…"

"I don't believe so," she whispered as he completed his turning. "Though you could leave half your nose behind and no one would be the wiser."

When his narrowed gaze snapped to hers, she shrugged innocently. "That's what you get if you keep threatening my cat."

Snape snorted quietly and relaxed his arms. "We go again."


	43. Opening the Door

**A/N: Dang it, I so wanted to update before Thanksgiving. I hope all of my American readers had a fantastic Turkey-day, and I hope everyone else still had a lovely day and yummy food. Again, I didn't make it to where I wanted to be - thank you, Lupin and Harry - but I found a reasonable stopping point and will make it to the original spot next update. (I'm promising myself this time, so I should really follow through with it.)  
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**I haven't gotten to _Rumored_, yet, but I will...soon...hopefully. My creativity is slightly blocked over there, but it is flowing quite nicely here.  
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**Thank you all so much!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 43**

"I see you survived detention," Ginny smirked as she watched her roommate slowly sit down to breakfast the next morning. "Did he set you to scrubbing and hauling cauldrons?"

"Mmm," Hermione grunted non-committedly, stretching her muscles that had been strained by hauling Professor Snape across the Forbidden Forest. Technically, she had not physically carried him at any point – though she _had_ carried the books – but the pressure of apparition had taken its toll on her body. He had warned her about it, of course, but she had continued on until she was sure that she could successfully apparate with both Snape and the bag of books in tow. Before she could reach the point of exhaustion, the professor had put his foot down and returned them back to the castle.

With a yawn, she gestured to where Dean's arm was slung about the redhead's shoulders. "I see you survived apologizing."

"So she did," Dean laughed, leaning into the conversation.

"And you took her back, I see," she added casually, reaching for a piece of toast.

The boy nodded and looked toward his girlfriend. "She was just so cute when begging for forgiveness that I couldn't say no."

Ginny rolled her eyes and poked him in the rib. "Don't be annoying."

"Guess I'll just have to cancel the string quartet I had planned to ask if you wanted to study together tonight, then," he teased.

"Oh, Merlin. He's never going to let me live this down," she muttered to Hermione, before glancing back to Dean and dropping her voice to a whisper. "If you're done eating, though, I could use some_ help_ _studying_ before class."

Suddenly dropping his fork as though it had burned him, the boy jumped up from the table and held out his hand.

"See you later, 'Mione," the girl smiled as she stood. With an eager smirk, she grabbed hold of Dean's hand and led him from the hall.

A soft sigh pulled Hermione's attention to her side where Harry sat picking at his breakfast.

"You alright?" she asked quietly.

"I suppose so," he answered, setting down his fork. "You were right, by the way."

The witch cocked her head with a small smirk. "I'm right about a lot of things. To which of those are you referring?"

"Ginny and Dean," he said in a low voice so as not to attract Ron's attention. "They do care about each other."

"Mmm, yes," she nodded after taking a sip of juice. "They definitely do."

He stared into space for a while before leaning his elbows on the table. "Maybe it's better that way. I've turned enough people into targets already. She deserves a normal life, and Voldemort will never let me give her that. She's happy with him; that should be enough for me."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You deserve to be happy, too."

"Happy is for _normal_ people, Hermione," he murmured, pulling away from her and standing up from the bench. "_I'm_ never going to be normal, now am I?"

The girl groaned in frustration and dropped the remainder of her toast onto her plate before tossing her book bag over her shoulder. Ignoring the interested glances from some of the students at the table, she hurried after her morose friend.

"Harry, slow down!" she called out as she reached the staircase.

"What?" he hissed, spinning around to face her.

Hermione frowned as she pulled him into an alcove and cast a _Muffliato_. "Look, I understand that you're upset, but you're _not_ the only one who wishes they could be normal."

"But I _am_ the only one with the entire fate of the Wizarding World on my shoulders, aren't I?" he countered bitterly.

"No, you're _not_!" she shouted, smacking his chest forcefully. "Do you realize how many people are working to help you? Or how many are working to protect you? You may be the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry, but you are _not_ the only one responsible for the future!"

"But _I'm_ the one who has to face Voldemort!"

She shook her head angrily. "You're not the only one who has to face him."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He narrowed his eyes.

"It means that others have stood before him, and have to stand before him again," she answered sadly. "_You_ have been there, yes, but so have _I_…so has Professor Dumbledore…so has Professor Snape. _He's_ been there more times than you and I could possibly bear to think."

"I know," Harry sighed, "but –"

"And there are others," the girl added, thinking momentarily of Draco's situation. "There are others who are dealing with things that you can't even begin to imagine, so don't you dare think that you're the only one suffering, because you are not!

"And you are _not_ alone in anything that you do! You have people who will fight for you, who will sacrifice themselves for you, who will _die_ for you! Don't you _dare_ belittle what they are giving up for you, or what they _will_ give up for you!" She took in a few short breaths and forced herself to speak more calmly. "There are so many of us who love you, Harry, and we will do everything we possibly can to make your life as bloody normal as it can be."

The dark-haired boy stood absolutely still; his green eyes wide with concern. "Hermione, you're scaring me. What is going on?"

"Nothing," she stammered quickly, straightening to her full height. "I've just been a bit stressed lately."

"_That_ wasn't nothing, and it wasn't just a bit of stress," he countered with a shake of his head. "Something is definitely going on."

Hermione shook her head and folded her arms nervously. "I can't talk about this. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I'm sorry."

"No, you've been acting differently all term," he pointed out, "and it's bothered all of us. If something is wrong, you can talk to me."

"Harry, I can't," she lamented. "There are so many things I wish I could tell you, but the truth is, I can't. At least not now."

"Why?"

The girl took in a large breath and glanced at the wall before locking eyes with her friend. "The same reason you're going to let Dean and Ginny be. I want you safe. I want you happy."

"Hermione…"

"No," she shook her head. "_You_ have things that you can't tell _me_ yet, and there are things that _I_ can't tell _you_. When it is safe for you to know, I promise that you will know everything. Until then, please know that I am making the right choices, and that I am not alone in anything that I do. And neither are you."

"Please –"

"_No_," she repeated firmly. "You are not the only one who has to keep secrets. I haven't pressed you any more for yours, have I?"

Sighing, Harry shook his head. He then took two steps forward and pulled her into an embrace. "Just tell me that you're safe."

Nodding against his cheek, she blinked back the tears that were threatening to form. "As safe as anyone can be right now."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," he whispered, tightening his hold.

"I'm sorry, too."

"Does this have anything to do with why you're letting Lavender win?" he asked a moment later. When she nodded, he sighed and rubbed her shoulder. "Then I promise I won't mention Ron and Lavender to you anymore if you promise not to mention Ginny and Dean to me."

"Are we making an anti-Weasley pact?" Hermione snickered, pulling away from him.

"I guess we are," he smirked, holding out his hand. "Deal?"

Shaking his hand, she nodded. "Deal."

"Though, while we're on the topic, you _are_ coming with us to the Burrow for the holiday, aren't you?"

The girl grimaced slightly and leaned the back of her head against the stone wall. "Ginny keeps asking me, but I think I'd rather spend some time alone."

He slowly nodded and scratched the back of his head. "I understand _that_ completely."

"Thanks," she whispered, adjusting her bag.

Mirroring her action, he expelled a long breath and gave her a reassuring smile. "I won't ask you to share anything, I promise, but if ever you need anything…"

"Well, I _could_ use an escort to Defense," she answered coyly.

"Done," Harry grinned, holding out his arm for her to take. With a matching smile, she slipped her arm through his, and the two stepped out from the alcove and began their trek up the stairs. Feeling as though she were being watched, Hermione furtively glanced over her shoulder and managed to catch sight of familiar black robes disappearing around a corner.

**'You are alright?'**

Tightening her grip on Harry's arm, she inhaled deeply at the sudden presence of Snape's voice. _'Yes, I believe so.'_

**'And Potter isn't about to run off and do anything rash?'**

_'No._' She smirked as she glanced at the boy beside her. '_He's behaving with perfect maturity, thank you.'_

**'_That_ is something that remains to be seen.'**

The witch shook her head slightly as they stepped off of the staircase and made their way down the hallway to the Defense classroom. '_About Thursday night…'_

She bit her lip as there was a slight pause on his end of the conversation. She knew that he could hear her mental processing, and what she was currently thinking of was that it had already been two weeks since the last renewal of the binding, and that the next week would be entirely out of the question.

**'We will take care of it Thursday, then. I will ascertain that Minerva will be in –'**

_'Or I could just come to your office, seeing as I have a viable detention explanation.'_

**'You already served detention once this week. You expect people to believe you earned another?'**

'_Earned another? No_.' She grinned as she dropped into her seat beside Harry. _'I do, however, expect people to believe that you were considerate enough to assign me another when I was unable to complete the task in the allotted time._'

Hermione leaned back in her chair as he paused again for several seconds.

**'Very well.'**

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

When Thursday evening arrived, Hermione accompanied Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Katie Bell to the Entrance Hall before parting ways.

"Good luck, Hermione!" Ginny called out as she and Katie disappeared through the large outer doors.

"Don't let him push you around, 'Mione," Ron grinned, while Harry tossed her a sympathetic look.

"Erm, thanks," she muttered, turning away before her cheeks could don a furious blush. There was absolutely no way that they could know she was descending into the dungeons to have sex with their Potions professor, and she had to make sure that she did nothing to attract their suspicion.

It had helped greatly that her nerves were just as on edge regarding the evening as they would have been if she were actually facing a detention. She had been chewing on her lip and fidgeting with the edge of her sleeves the entire way down from Gryffindor Tower, and she continued to do so as she stepped off of the last flight of stairs in the dungeons.

With one last deep breath, she remembered to slip off her school robes before knocking on the dark wooden door. As she rocked backward on her heels, the door was yanked open and she found herself glancing into the questioning gaze of the Head of Slytherin House.

"Granger," he commented politely, stepping aside to allow her entrance into the office. When he shut the door firmly behind her, he raised one eyebrow. "I trust there were no questions regarding my assigning you a secondary detention?"

"None whatsoever," she smirked, depositing her robes on the seat of the wooden chair in front of his desk.

Severus grunted in response and strode past her to the rear wall of the room. When the door appeared, he pushed it open and gestured for her to take the lead. As he silently fell into step behind her, Hermione found herself strangely disappointed that he had not grabbed her hand or guided her by the elbow as she climbed the stairs. She thought briefly about Ron and Lavender holding hands everywhere they went, or about Dean and Ginny cuddled up in the Common Room before supper.

She blew out a deep breath, knowing that public displays of affection were an intimacy she was likely never to have. Even if she were to survive the war, her only chance of a normal life lay with Snape, and he loved someone else. For a while she had wondered about whether or not he still loved Harry's mum, but she knew that he must. If the love was real, he could not just forget it because Lily was no longer alive.

_Or because some giggle-headed blonde showed up at a few Quidditch practices. _She sighed upon thinking about Ron. Harry was quick to claim that their friend was in love with her, but she was not sure she could believe that anymore after seeing how hurriedly he had taken up with her former roommate. And as much as it relieved her, she could not help but feel disappointed by it.

As she reached the small landing, the door to Snape's bedroom appeared in the wall, and she instinctively reached for the doorknob.

The wizard cleared his throat from behind her. "That door will only open –"

Hermione turned the brass knob and pushed the door open to reveal his quarters.

"—for me," he trailed off, staring at the open doorway in disbelief. Not only could the girl break into his rooms by means of the portrait in Minerva's hallway, but she apparently could both call forth and open a door that was to be accessible solely by him.

Entering the room, he slowly closed the door, eyeing it with mistrust as though he thought it may suddenly open of its own accord. When he turned around, he noticed that the girl was standing in front of the window, staring out at the stars.

Without speaking, he slipped a flask of _Vacuus_ _Ortis_ from his night table and set it atop the bookshelf in front of her. As she picked it up, he set to removing his frock coat and his boots. When he was down to his trousers and white shirt, he unbuttoned his cuffs and stepped beside her.

Severus lifted one hand and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, causing her to turn slightly to glance up at him. He frowned upon seeing the moisture in her eyes and gently ran his knuckles along her jawline. "What is it?"

The witch blinked and shook her head. "Nothing."

"It obviously isn't nothing," he chastised, tilting up her chin.

Hermione shrugged and blew out a deep breath as she struggled to gather her emotions. Before answering, she thought briefly to her conversation with Harry earlier that week. "I just wish that I could be normal, and not be…well, who I am."

When he narrowed his eyes, she shook her head and looked away. "Forget it, I'm being stupid. It was a moment of weakness is all."

The man swallowed deeply and perched on the edge of the bookshelf. He slid his hand to cup her cheek and stared forcefully into her eyes. "Hermione, you are neither stupid nor weak. Is that understood?"

She nodded and pressed her face against his hand, feeling oddly calm in his presence.

"It is with deep regret that I cannot offer you normalcy," he continued, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But if there is something that will make any of this easier, I will provide you with whatever I can."

Her eyes snapped to his as a warmth flooded through her system with his promise. For a brief second, she considered sharing her anxiety over the threat of never having a relationship built out of anything more than duty and guilt. When she opened her mouth, however, she could not find a manner of phrasing it that would not either sound accusatory or place excess demand on him.

Instead she addressed a more pressing issue. "Can I stay here? At Hogwarts, I mean."

"Stay here for what?" he asked, as he pulled her one step closer to him.

"For Christmas," she answered, sliding one hand along his chest. "Or do I have to go with Harry to the Burrow?"

He placed his hand atop hers and met her gaze. "You do not wish to spend the holiday with your friends?"

"If I have to, I will," she mumbled, moving her thumb along the edge of his hand, "but I'd rather stay in the castle. I really am not in the mood for the holiday spirit… and definitely not the Weasley spirit."

Snape let out a contemplative breath and eventually nodded a few moments later. "If you would prefer not to attend the Weasley gathering, you do not have to."

With a genuine smile on her face, the witch threw her arms around his neck in appreciation. "Thank you!"

Resting his hands at the waistband of her jeans, he placed his lips against her temple. When Hermione shifted in his arms a few seconds later, he cautiously sought out her mouth with his own. Leaving her arms wrapped about his neck, she pressed the rest of her body tightly against his as she opened her mouth to him.

While his tongue explored her mouth, his hands cautiously began moving beneath her blouse. As a throaty moan was pulled from the witch, all previous thoughts and concerns that were plaguing her conscience were completely forgotten.

She pulled away suddenly a minute later when his fingers brushed across a particularly sensitive swatch of skin. Panting noticeably, she grabbed the side of her head and blushed. "Sorry. I'm, erm, ticklish sometimes."

"Oh," he whispered; a concerned expression melting away from his face as he stood.

Hermione bit her lip as he moved towards her again. Her heart pounded in her ears as he bent down to capture her lips once more and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against his form. She gave a small squeak of surprise a few minutes later when her feet left the ground and she felt herself being awkwardly carried to the bed.

Severus broke the liplock as he set her bottom upon the mattress and then stepped backwards to remove the rest of his clothing.

Upon observing his bare chest, the girl suddenly realized how overheated she really was. Squirming slightly, she pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it away from her. She leaned back, unbuttoning her jeans and attempting to push them down her thighs.

When warm fingers overtook hers, she swallowed nervously and propped herself up on her elbows. As the wizard finished pulling the denim over her ankles, he let them drop to the floor in a heap and then looked up to meet her gaze with darkened eyes.

Automatically, she scooted back farther onto the bed as he finished the removal of his own trousers. The mattress shifted suddenly as he placed one knee between her thighs and leaned above her to kiss her again. His hands roamed her naked torso, artfully avoiding the trigger spot he had accidently located earlier. As he cupped her breast through her bra, she arched upwards, causing her cotton-covered pelvis to rub against his thigh.

Hermione moaned as he left her mouth and nipped along the curve of her throat. Desperate to curb some of the pressure building between her thighs, she purposely pressed herself harder against his leg.

Catching the message after she did it a second time, Snape detached his mouth from her collarbone and looked into her flushed face. "You are ready?"

Emphatically, she nodded against the bedspread and slipped her arms around his neck again. She gave a surprised gasp when her knickers disappeared a second later and were quickly replaced by the throbbing warmth of the Potions Master.

They moved together – the young witch tentatively meeting his strokes – until finally they both fell over the precipice in quick succession. Upon finishing, they lay entwined atop the bedcovers for several minutes, catching their breath. Eventually, Severus moved away from the girl and lay staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.

Pulling herself into a seated position, the Gryffindor exhaled deeply and slid off the end of the bed. With a smirk, she unclasped her bra and tossed it to the floor with the rest of her clothes before slinking into the bathroom.

After switching on the water in the shower, she glanced in the mirror and winced briefly at the state of her hair. It was quickly forgotten, however, when she noted the rosiness of her cheeks and the glittering of her eyes.

It was no wonder why Professor McGonagall had threatened her with tutoring Lavender. It would have been no less effective in sharing her secret with the world than if she had physically written 'I Just Had Sex' on her forehead.

Sighing softly, she stepped into the hot spray and tried to think of anything other than what had put the ridiculous smile on her face. She thought about the essays she had already finished that weekend; she thought about Crookshanks and the mayhem that had ensued over the mouse he had left on Mathina's pillow; she even thought about Quidditch, for Merlin's sake.

As she turned off the water, however, what she found herself contemplating were the dimensions of Snape's bathroom. It was not as though it was exactly a small room – it was decently-sized – but it was nowhere near as glamorous as it could have been. It was approximately the same size as the one attached to her room, which was significantly smaller than the one in McGonagall's quarters.

Even if the large tub and expansive white marble were a reflection of her elevated status as Deputy Headmistress, it would be safe to assume that the Head of Slytherin would warrant a nicer lavatory than the students. With that thought in mind, Hermione quickly toweled dry and dressed in the freshly-laundered clothes undoubtedly set out by Dobby.

Severus glanced up from the couch when she appeared in the doorway leading to his bedroom.

"I think you've been seriously short-changed in the loo department," she muttered, rubbing her wet curls with a forest green towel.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked with a raise of his brow.

"Have you seen Professor McGonagall's bathroom?" she intoned with a smirk. "I would have thought that as Head of Slytherin yours would be comparable."

The wizard snorted and crossed his legs. "I would imagine the Slytherin Head's private lavatory would be just as magnanimous as Minerva's."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes narrowed as she lowered the towel. "Aren't these the Slytherin Head chambers?"

"They are not," he responded. "Unfortunately, neither you nor I would be allowed entrance into the actual quarters."

"Why?"

He sighed loudly. "Salazar Slytherin took his pureblood supremacy quite seriously. Only those with the proper blood status may ever enter his chambers."

"You don't have… You're _not_ a Pureblood?" she stammered; her eyes wide with surprise.

"Your skills of deduction are as admirable as ever, Miss Granger."

"Excuse me, _Professor_," she sneered, "I suppose that I just always assumed that everyone in Slytherin were Purebloods."

"And Slytherin House prides itself on promoting that assumption," Snape remarked, straightening in his seat. "But there are a number of Halfbloods quietly existing amidst their superiors, and I happen to be one of them."

"But you're a –" Hermione immediately stopped talking as she realized what she was about to say. Dropping the towel to the ground, she covered her mouth with both hands and paled slightly as she averted her eyes.

"A Death Eater?" he supplied for her.

She shook her head as she dropped her arms to her side. "That isn't what I meant to say."

He raised one eyebrow as if to challenge her statement.

"It isn't," she protested emphatically. "I was just surprised that…that they would let in someone who wasn't Pureblood."

"Meaning what you're really asking," he paused, folding his arms, "is how someone who was half-Muggle could turn his back on his own heritage."

The girl shrugged sheepishly and looked to the floor. "I'm sorry. It isn't my place to pry."

"I suppose it's only fair turnabout," Severus sighed, "seeing as _I_ have been privy to _your_ entire life history."

"Really, I was out of line," she continued, stepping farther into the sitting room. "You don't have to tell me anything, sir. I –"

"Severus," he interrupted.

"What?"

"I do not require you to address me by any formal title when not in the classroom," he explained softly. "You may call me by my given name, and you have more than earned the right to demand explanation of me."

Not sure of how to respond, she simply closed her mouth and shifted her weight.

His face tensed noticeably as the wizard leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He struggled for a few moments as he attempted to find an adequate response. Eventually, he grimaced and flexed his fingers. "My father…was not an agreeable man."

Hermione blinked at the obvious pain in his voice and rested her hand on the back of the armchair. "He taught you to hate Muggles?"

"In a manner of speaking," he muttered, straightening slightly.

"But why would he marry a Muggle if he hated them so much?" she asked a moment later, when he did not offer further clarification.

Snape shook his head almost imperceptibly. "My mother was a Pureblood witch. My _father_ was the Muggle."

"Oh," she mumbled in confusion. As recognition dawned upon her, her eyes widened and her voice darkened. "_Oh_."

The wizard exhaled loudly and rose to his full seated height. He kept his eyes trained on the flames in the hearth as he continued speaking. "He did not know that my mother was a witch until after I was born. My mother was exceptionally young and naïve to have placed herself in that situation to begin with, but she was intelligent enough to recognize that she needed to keep her magic a secret. When I accidently set the couch on fire a few months later over an unchanged nappy, however, she was forced to reveal the truth."

The girl watched him carefully as he closed his eyes and ducked his head. She wrapped her arms tightly around her waist, trying to suppress the urge to throw them about his shoulders. As much as she wanted to give him a hug, she knew he would not be terribly receptive to it. Even though what he was telling her made her want to cry, the fact that he was telling her anything at all made her feel increasingly important. This was especially true since the way he was speaking gave her the impression that she was one of a select few privileged enough to be given the information.

"I have no doubt that he was cruel to her prior to the revelation," he added quietly, pulling her from her thoughts, "but he unquestionably failed to curb any of his enthusiasm afterwards. He was bitter over having been saddled with a child and a wife he barely knew, and was even more rancorous at having been saddled with ones who possessed something that he believed was the reason for his destitution and personal ruination."

"He blamed you?" she whispered weakly.

"Of course," he sneered, chancing a glance in her direction. "Why would one blame the booze when he could just as easily blame the witchcraft?"

Hermione stumbled into the armchair and stared at him with moist eyes. "Profes – Severus, I'm so sorry."

He shook his head and folded his arms against his chest as his face regained its impassivity. "It is in the past. I do not mean to offer it as an excuse for my unfortunate affiliations, but merely as an explanation for why my early-formed view of Muggles was neither forgiving nor pleasant."

"Mine wouldn't have been, either," she stated gently, pulling her feet onto the seat of the chair. Several seconds of tense silence passed, punctuated only by the snapping of the fire and the ticking of the clock on the mantle. Finally the witch could take the somberness no longer, and she scratched her head as she attempted to somewhat lighten the mood. "Well, I guess your being half-Muggle explains why you were willing to go to the chemist's and purchase a Muggle pee-stick for me."

Snape looked at her in surprise and raised an eyebrow.

"You have no idea how much that threw me when you suggested it," she smirked, "but it makes more sense now knowing that you weren't raised in the Wizarding World."

The man shook his head and waited several seconds before answering, "I was raised in Cokeworth. In Lancashire."

"Oh," Hermione whispered softly, chewing on her bottom lip. "I think I've heard of it before."

His eyes widened slightly and he tilted his head. "_No one's_ heard of it, Granger."

She frowned in concentration. "No, I'm quite certain I have. It sounds so familiar…I'm sure that I've…Yes! Harry mentioned it once a long time ago. Some story he was telling Ron about how his Hogwarts letter found him at a hotel there. I don't really know the particulars of the story, since that was before they actually wanted to speak to me."

"At a hotel there," Severus whispered slowly, his face twisted in disbelief. "Too-good Tuney willingly set foot in the Railview?"

"Too-good Tuney?"

He let out a nervous breath upon realizing that he had spoken more of his incredulity than he had intended. "Petunia Ev—erm, Dursley."

The girl's eyes brightened in surprise and she leaned forward in her seat. "You know Harry's aunt and uncle, too?"

With a grimace, he nodded slowly. "Vernon Dursley by sight only, but yes, I _knew_ Petunia. She grew up not terribly far from my childhood home, in a more affluent neighborhood than mine. She never ventured anywhere near the river, which is why the thought of her staying at the Railvew is nothing short of incredible."

Hermione toyed with the edge of her sleeves as she tilted her head. "So that's how you knew Harry's mum? You were from the same town?"

A pained expression settled on his face as he stood from the sofa and crossed over to the fireplace. He remained silent for nearly a minute, closing his eyes as he waged an internal battle with himself. The girl had just opened her mouth to apologize, when he sighed.

"Lily was…really, she was my only friend as a child. When I was young I would watch her and her sister playing in the park, and then one day she did magic. She was the first person besides my mother that I saw perform magic. When I told her what she was…"

He paused briefly as a small smile played at his lips. "…she thought I was poking fun at her by calling her a witch. But when I showed her that I could do the same thing, she finally stopped yelling at me. From then on, we spent nearly every summer afternoon together. I told her everything I knew about magic and Hogwarts – everything my mother would secretly tell me when my father was out – and she would sneak me sweets from her mother's biscuit tin."

The young witch felt herself smiling as she watched the firelight reflecting in his eyes during his reminiscence. She pulled her feet into the chair and rested her chin on her knees, resolving herself to listen without interrupting his recollection.

"When she got her visit from McGonagall a few days after her eleventh birthday, she was so excited that she ran the entire way to the park and waited for nearly three hours in the snow for me to arrive. I had received my letter a few weeks earlier, but I had wanted to make sure that she got hers before I showed it to her. We were looking forward to attending school together and learning to produce powerful magic. After being placed in rival Houses, however, we slowly began drifting apart until I managed to sever the few remaining threads holding us together."

He pushed away from the fireplace and looked toward the girl curled up in his chair. "Until recently, it was my greatest regret."

Hermione swallowed nervously and ducked her head, knowing full well that his greatest regret now dealt with her.

"On that happy note," Snape muttered looking at the clock, "I imagine you would have undoubtedly run out of cauldrons to scrub by now."

Nodding slowly, the witch clambered out of the chair and followed him through the bedroom. Resolving herself not to look at the rumpled bedcovers, she glanced out the window until he opened the door to the back staircase.

"So if these aren't the Slytherin rooms, what are they?" she asked curiously as she stepped past him.

The wizard let out a puff of air and fixed her with a challenging look. "You will tell no one this."

"Well even if I wanted to, I can't now," she exclaimed, jutting out her chin, before beginning down the stairs. "But I wouldn't have wanted to anyway."

He donned an apologetic glance as he followed her. "When the Headmaster revealed that I would be unable to occupy the traditional Slytherin chambers as my predecessor had, Minerva found it in her furry little heart to offer me residence in her lover's suite."

Choking on her own saliva, the girl stopped and stared at him. "Pardon?"

Using his pointer finger, he indicated for her to turn back around and continue on to his office. "Contrary to popular belief, the Four Founders were not exactly celibate. Hufflepuff may have been, but the other three were not. While Rowena Ravenclaw shared her personal quarters with her paramour, Slytherin and Gryffindor opted to build separate chambers for their mistresses near their own.

"Since I was without personal quarters, and the rooms were simply standing empty, Minerva decided they were the perfect solution. This staircase appeared after she managed to railroad me into accepting the offer."

"That's why you referred to it as Professor McGonagall's corridor?" she asked as she pushed open the door into his office.

Severus nodded. "That whole wing was originally Godric Gryffindor's, which is why there are no additional staff quarters or classrooms located there. Slytherin's are here in the dungeons, closer to the dormitory since he wanted to keep close tabs on his Pureblood darlings."

The witch snickered as she picked up her school robes and slipped them over her shoulders. "So you live in Gryffindor's mistress's quarters?"

An irritated expression crossed his face. "Something which never ceases to amuse the old hag."

"That is positively brilliant," she giggled, fastening the collar of her robes.

"You need to redefine the word brilliant," he sneered, leaning against his desk.

"Perhaps," she smiled, stepping toward the office door. She had just touched the handle when she realized she could not contain herself any longer. Before he had time to object, she flew back to his desk and wrapped her arms around him. She could feel his chest depress with his long sigh, but she squeezed him even tighter.

"Granger," he grunted.

"Thirty more seconds," she pleaded without loosening her grasp.

Snape rolled his eyes, but allowed her the time extension.

"Thank you," she whispered into his shirt before pulling away. "Though I think someday you should tell Harry what you call his aunt. I have a feeling he would appreciate it."

Hermione laughed at the disgusted look on his face and turned back to the door.

"Good night…Severus."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Ginny asked as they descended the staircase into the Entrance Hall on Saturday morning. Breakfast had ended nearly an hour prior, and nearly the entire student body was making their way to the carriages for the journey to the Hogsmeade train station.

"Quite sure," Hermione nodded, folding her arms across her chest.

The redhead gave her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her hand briefly. "I understand. If you get lonely, though, I'm sure you can change your mind later."

"I suppose I could."

The younger girl nodded before glancing briefly at the tall boy walking beside her. She eyed her brother, Harry, and Lavender a few paces ahead of them, and then leaned her head closer to her roommate to whisper in a low voice. "You haven't told anyone about New Year's, have you?"

When Hermione shook her head, the girl gave a relieved sigh. "Good. I want to explain it to Mum and Dad first, before Ron explodes over it. Seeing as I won't have you there to make him see reason."

"I'm sure you could get Lav-lav to explain it to him," she murmured.

Ginny looked up at her with a horrified expression on her face and hissed, "If _she's_ anywhere near the Burrow, I swear to Merlin that I will shit bricks. Dean may not know wizarding customs, but Ron bloody hell does."

The brunette snickered lightly as they moved through the open gates. "I suppose that's why your Mum was always the one to invite me."

"Mmmm-hmmm," she nodded. "Though we wouldn't mind if Ron were to ever extend your invitation."

Hermione rolled her eyes and froze suddenly at the sight of the skeletal bodies standing in front of each of the carriages. A lump caught in her throat as her eyes raked over the reptilian winged horses. She had flown on a thestral, of course, when they had rushed off to the Ministry to save Sirius, but never before had she been able to see them.

"Hermione, you alright?" Ginny asked, looking back at her in concern.

"Erm, yeah," she responded, snapping her gaze away from the nearest carriage where one of the large creatures had turned to look at her with its milky white eyes. "Sorry, I was just …erm…trying to remember if I grabbed all of your presents or not."

"Ahhh," the girl winked. "Maybe if you tell me what they are, I could help you remember."

"Very subtle, Gin," she chided.

The redhead shrugged as they walked toward the carriage where Dean was loading the luggage. "I'm not in Slytherin, now am I?"

"Thank God for that," Dean smirked, stepping toward them.

"Well," the brunette sighed, holding out her hand, "Happy Christmas, Dean."

"And to you," the tall boy nodded, taking hold of her hand and pulling her into a loose embrace. "Thanks for translating for me."

"You're, erm, welcome," she stuttered in surprise when he released her.

"I've asked her to tell me whenever she thinks I'm eliciting some ridiculous Wizarding custom again."

Hermione laughed. "Good."

Ginny shook her head as she stepped forward and gave her roommate a hug. "The prat – he got down on one knee this morning to ask if I would like him to carry my trunk down."

"Oh dear," she giggled. "Well, have fun during New Year's."

"Thanks, and I hope you enjoy your holidays," the younger girl smiled before disappearing into the carriage behind her boyfriend.

Letting loose a small sigh, Hermione glanced around the crowd until she spotted Harry and Ron. Quickly, she made her way over to their carriage, and threw her arms around Harry. "Good luck with everything."

"Yeah," he muttered, pulling away slightly. "You know, part of me wants to stay here with you."

She shook her head and squeezed his hand. "You need family for Christmas, Harry."

"And what about you?" he asked quietly. "Don't you need family, too?"

The witch sighed. "Not this year. They need to stay safe, and I just don't really feel right about celebrating it without them."

He nodded slowly and let her give him another quick hug. "Enjoy the peace and quiet, then. It'll be gone before you know it."

"I know," she mumbled, holding out the canvas tote she had been carrying. "I trust you more with these than I do Ginny."

Harry peered into the bag and chuckled at the sight of the collection of wrapped gifts. "I promise to guard them with my life."

"You better," she smiled, turning slightly to attempt to say goodbye to Ron. When Lavender caught sight of her, however, the blonde immediately tugged her boyfriend up into the carriage.

"I'll tell him for you," Harry sighed upon watching the event unfold.

Hermione nodded and gave him a strained smile. "Thank you."

When the Boy-Who-Lived climbed into the coach, she gave a small little wave before turning around and slowly walking along the length of the crowd of students. Keeping her gaze purposely directed away from the strange beasts, she watched carefully for the appearance of students from Slytherin House. Within a few minutes, she finally spotted the familiar pale blonde hair that she was seeking.

The witch let out a nervous breath as she watched Draco pompously striding through the Hogwarts gates empty-handed while Crabbe hauled two sets of luggage beside him. As her stomach began twisting with anxiety, she momentarily considered returning to the castle and ignoring him.

_You're in Gryffindor for Merlin's sake_, she chided herself. Steeling her resolve, she briefly slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat, and then set out on a path toward the Malfoy heir. As she walked, she chewed on her lip and fingered the small package she held in her hand. When she was within a few paces, she ducked her head and purposely bumped into his shoulder.

"Watch it, mudblood," he spat, glaring at her.

"Sorry," she mumbled sheepishly as Crabbe and Goyle started snickering. "Erm, Happy Christmas though."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Sod off, Granger."

As laughter erupted from the nearby Slytherins, Hermione felt her cheeks burning in shame and she quickly scampered away toward the gates. Once she had made it inside of the grounds and was out of sight of the carriages, she slowed her pace to a clam stroll.

A smirk slowly spread across her face as she flexed her now-empty hand.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I'm surprised she wanted to stay here," Remus stated quietly, rubbing his forehead. "I would have assumed she would want to spend time with her friends and get away from the stress of the term."

Snape rolled his eyes and set down his fork as he watched Hermione leave the table with one of his books in hand. When she was half the distance to the door, he folded his arms against his chest and fixed the werewolf with an exasperated stare. "Do you have nothing better to do than speculate upon the private life of a student?"

"I was simply stating an opinion," he responded with a frown. "It isn't horrendous of me to show concern for another human being."

"Show concern, no," the dark-haired wizard shrugged. "Obsess upon, yes."

"Obsess?" Lupin hissed, leaning forward. When he noticed a number of the staff and two students had turned their attention in his direction, he took in a measured breath and lowered his voice. "I am not _obsessed_ with her."

"Oh, come now, Lupin," the other wizard smirked. "You're like a dog with a bone."

Remus's eyes narrowed considerably. "Well, _you_ would know all about obsessions, wouldn't you?"

Momentarily shocked by the vitriol in the man's tone, Severus opened his mouth and raised his eyebrows. His eyes then hardened into a damning stare, and he snapped his jaw shut as he wordlessly pushed his chair back from the table. Without so much as an inclination of his head to any of the staff members, he rigidly strode away from the table, letting the edge of his robes flutter behind him.

As he stormed out of the hall, Lupin grimaced and tossed his napkin onto his plate and pushed out of his chair. He quickly made his way after the brooding Potions Master, but waited until they were both out of the Great Hall before calling out to him.

"Severus, wait!" he yelled as the man began descending the steps into the dungeon. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded!"

"The meaning was pretty damned clear to anyone with half a brain cell, Lupin," Snape sneered without turning around.

Remus sighed and slipped down the first half flight of stairs. "Damn it, Severus, stop!"

"Or what?" he hissed over his shoulder. "You're going to hex me in the back? By all means, wolf – get it over with, just for old times' sake."

The statement brought the disheveled wizard to an abrupt halt. Closing his eyes, he let out a shamed sigh and slowly began moving forward again. "Severus, I'm sorry. For all of it."

This time it was the Slytherin's turn to stop in his tracks.

"You're _sorry_?" he spat, violently whipping around in place and then moving dangerously towards the other man. "You think that _that_ is what I want from you? You think that I've just been spending the years torturing myself, waiting for Remus Fucking Lupin to waltz in and feebly apologize for his contribution to the hell that is my life? I hate to disappoint you, wolf, but I haven't! I don't _care_ if you're sorry. I don't _care_ if you feel guilty. I…don't…care! Not about you, and certainly not a flying fuck about myself!"

With an angry snarl, he whirled around and rapidly descended the staircase. Lupin stared wide-eyed at his retreating form, remaining absolutely still until the black robes had disappeared around the bend in the staircase. Letting out a large sigh, he wiped his face with his hands and made to head back up to the main floor. He only made it a few steps, however, before his conscience got the better of him.

A pained expression settled onto his face as he once again settled into a slow pursuit of the Potions Master. Upon stepping onto the dungeon level corridor, he could hear the echo of a slammed door reverberating along the stone walls. Steeling his resolve, Remus curled both hands into fists and confidently strode to the man's office. He could hear things being knocked around through the door, and he took in a steadying breath before rapping his knuckles upon the center of the door.

The door was ripped open with such force that the man nearly jumped backwards.

"What part of 'I don't care' led you to believe that I wanted you to continue bothering me?" Snape spat.

"I don't care if it's what you want, Severus," the Defense instructor replied, pushing past him into the room. "I've got a feeble apology to make, and you're going to bloody listen to it."

The slightly taller man glared as he threw the door shut and marched over to his desk. "Then get to it, wolf, because I haven't all night. _Some_ of us have things to do besides speculate upon students."

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I know that it probably means nothing to you, but I _am_ sorry. I am sorry that I never stood up to James and Sirius when they took their antics too far. It didn't set well with me even then, but I was afraid of losing the only friends I had. And I justified it with the fact that you tended to give it just as good as you got –"

"Did you think I would just lie down and take the abuse like a good, little boy?" Severus sneered, crossing his arms. "I did that enough as a child – I wasn't about to do it for four spoiled brats who got their jollies off tormenting the less fortunate."

The werewolf paled and dropped his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry. I never imagined… I never… I never even knew why James and Sirius took issue with you."

"Why?" The dark-haired man slammed both hands down on the top of his desk. "Because I fucking existed! Wasn't that the grand reveal?"

Lupin winced and felt his face flush with shame. "I'm sorry. I thought they were just mouthing off. I always just assumed that you had traded insults or jinxes and it spiraled out of control from there."

"They _took issue_ with me from the moment they laid eyes on me in the bloody train! I had never met them in my entire life, and suddenly I was the shit under their shoes."

The disheveled wizard shook his head despondently. "I don't know why. Maybe it was because you wanted to be in Slytherin… or because of your friendship with Lily –"

"Don't you mean my _obsession_ with Lily?"

Remus swallowed painfully and glanced at the raw anger in his face. "I didn't mean that. I didn't react well to your insinuation about Hermione, and all of the memories of James's rants about you came rushing back to me."

"Of course," he hissed, "because Potter was the premiere authority on everything."

"Well it wasn't as if you provided any evidence to the contrary! You were _always_ hanging around Lily, and then when you insulted her, you _still_ couldn't leave her alone! Pacing in front of Gryffindor Tower, begging to see her, threatening to sleep out there – _that_ isn't something one does in a normal friendship. Even when she told you she wanted nothing to do with you and the two of you weren't speaking, you were _still_ staring after her in class and at mealtimes!" Lupin shook his head bitterly and folded his arms to his chest. "What _were_ we to think? Based on the way you acted you were either obsessed with her or you were in love with her!"

Silence descended upon the room. As Snape began straightening to his full height, the other man's eyes gradually widened.

"Holy Merlin…" he breathed, dropping his arms to his sides. "You _were_ in love with her, weren't you?"


	44. Putting the Pieces Together

**A/N: Super long chapter for you all! You have no idea how super excited I am that these updates actually coincide with the holiday season. I couldn't have done this if I had planned it! Seriously - if I had, i would have probably missed it by three to six weeks.  
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**Not sure when the next post will be, but hopefully near Christmas. Finals week is upon us, so I wanted to get this done in the midst of my mental lockdown. I won't get a chance to start working on Ch 45 until sometime after Friday's graduation and even then I'll have studying to do for my entrance exams.  
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**Thank you all for reading, and I look forward to seeing all of your reviews! It will keep my spirits up during my week of academic terror!  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 44**

Severus closed his eyes and slowly dropped into his chair. Resting his elbows on his desk, he leaned forward and held his face in his hands. He had never wanted anyone to know, but he had started to come to terms with the idea since Hermione pieced it together two and a half months ago. He still was loathe to have anyone figure it out lest it get back to the Dark Lord – or worse, The-Brat-Who-Lived – but instead of the white hot anger he had always expected to find, he only felt exceptionally exhausted and immeasurably grateful that he had silently cast a _Muffliato_ upon Lupin's arrival in his office.

With a sigh, he rubbed his temples and leaned back in his chair. "Twenty-five years it took for you to come to that conclusion, Lupin. Speaks volumes as to the status of your mental acuity, wouldn't you say?"

"The signs were all there," Remus whispered, wiping his hand over his face. "Why didn't I see it before?"

"With your snout stuffed so far up Potter's and Black's arses, I would imagine it quite difficult for you to see anything but the shit they produced," the Slytherin muttered, though the anger in his voice had deflated considerably.

The werewolf ignored the jibe as he pulled the wooden chair towards him and sat down carefully. He eyed his colleague with apprehension for several seconds before finally scraping together the courage to voice his question. "Did you join _them_ because you were angry with her?"

Snape's gaze suddenly snapped to him, and the man frowned deeply. "No."

"Then why? _Why_, if you were in love with a Muggleborn, would you _ever_–"

"_Why_? Because _you_ weren't the only one who took friends where you could get them!" he shouted angrily as he rose out of the chair and slammed his pointer finger onto the desk top. "Because I didn't want to have to defend myself against my _own_ House when I was already defending myself against the Almighty House of Gryffindor with no help from the staff! Because with Lily gone I had no one else! Because it was the only way my juvenile brain could come up with to keep her safe! Is that enough for you, or shall I keep going?"

Lupin, who had been wincing at the first few exclamations, suddenly widened his eyes at the last. "What do you mean 'keep her safe'?"

The Potions Master grimaced and balled his hands into tight fists as he collapsed back into his chair. He had no desire to share his secrets and motivations with the wolf, but he knew that if he stopped talking now, the buggering fool would start sniffing around him as well. It was dangerous enough with the Marauder lurking around Hermione. If he were to suddenly split his focus between the two of them, there was no hope for keeping their connection buried.

Gritting his teeth, he glared coldly at the stack of essays on his desk. "Do you think that you and your gang of merry men were the only ones who could see where the world was headed? I shared sleeping quarters and a common room with a cornucopia of future Death-Eaters – I knew _exactly_ what was in store for Muggleborns were the Dark Lord to take power. But unlike Lily, or you, _I_ didn't have any faith in the Headmaster as a student. If he couldn't keep the Dark Lord's propaganda out of the Slytherin dungeons, or keep four fuckwits from terrorizing half the school, what chance could he have against the Dark Lord and his army? There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the tyrant would successfully take control, and Lily would undoubtedly die. But I stupidly thought that if I were to gain his favor, then he would spare her."

"But he didn't."

"He _had_ promised that he would," Snape murmured quietly, scratching the edge of his desk with his thumbnail. "But by then, my brain had grown in enough to know better than to trust _his_ word."

"This is why you went to Dumbledore?" Remus stared at him as if he had never actually seen the man before.

The man slowly nodded before scowling and dropping his hand into his lap. "But even he couldn't them safe for much more than a year. He wouldn't listen to me long enough to convince them to let _him_ be their Secret Keeper. He had too much trust in the House of Gryffindor."

"_Them_? You asked to protect all of them?" Lupin's eyes went wide. "Even James?"

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. "Contrary to my own personal teenaged belief, I did not actually wish any of you tosspots dead. Mangled beyond recognition, perhaps, but not dead… except maybe Black."

The sandy-haired wizard shook his head. "I know for a fact that last bit isn't true."

When the pair of dark eyes flicked suddenly to his face, Remus tilted his head slightly. "In June, you did everything you possibly could to keep both Harry and Sirius alive and well. Harry doesn't see it, but I did."

"Yes, well, had either of the blithering idiots followed directions and stayed put…"

"I know," the werewolf sighed sadly. After a long moment of tense silence, he blew out a slow breath and leaned his elbows on his knees. Shaking his head, he raised his eyes to his colleague. "Why does no one know this?"

"The ones who _needed to know_ knew," he muttered. "_You_ didn't."

"But Dumbledore knows," the Defense instructor surmised.

"Obviously," Severus mumbled. "Even senile, he wouldn't trust a spy without knowing his motivations."

Lupin gave a small smirk in response and folded his arms to his chest. "And he _does_ trust you. He's always said that love is the most powerful force. You're loyal to the Order because of Lily. You're loyal to Harry because of Lily."

"If you're expecting a treat, roll over and play dead."

The wizard let out a short bark of laughter and rose to his full seated height. "I recognize that this was not a topic you ever wished to discuss with me, but I am grateful that you have…even though it makes me feel even more like a horrible human being."

Snape met his eyes with a serious gaze. "If you tell anyone…"

"I know," he sighed. "It will be my funeral."

"On the contrary," the Potions Master stated matter-of-factly, "It will be mine."

A slight pallor spread across the other man's features as he stood from the chair. "I appreciate your trusting me, then."

"Who says I trust you?" Severus scowled.

Remus allowed himself a small smile and he scratched his forehead. "For starters, the fact that you haven't _Obliviated_ me yet."

The dark-haired man huffed and crossed his arms. "The night is still young."

"Then I shall take my leave," the werewolf winked, "lest temptation become too great."

The Slytherin glared at him as he casually made his way toward the door. When the man reached for the knob, he sighed loudly. "Lupin, let the girl be."

Remus looked over his shoulder and donned a solemn expression. "I don't mean her any harm, Severus. I am merely concerned over her well-being."

"Then be concerned from a distance," he chided. "Watching her like she's some rat in a cage is only going to set her more on edge."

"And you would know this how?" Lupin asked, tilting his head in suspicion.

Severus let out a deep breath and dropped his gaze to the desk. "Let's just assume that I've had more experience with abuse victims than have you. Miss Granger needs to come to terms with her situation on her own. Pressuring her as you have been doing will only make matters worse. She needs to feel safe, not suffocated…which is precisely the reason why she would opt to remain here instead of travelling to the Burrow with Thing One and Thing Two."

"I suppose Molly could be considered a bit smothering," Remus shrugged, leaning his weight against the door.

"A bit?"

The man chuckled and dipped his head. "You know, for as much as you exude indifference, you seem to make plenty of observations about the welfare of others."

Snape rolled his eyes and nonchalantly grabbed the top essay from the stack. "I'm a spy and a Potions professor, Lupin. It's my bloody job to make observations."

With a small smile, the werewolf nodded his good-bye and disappeared into the dungeon corridor.

Severus calmly set the essay back atop the pile and then kicked the edge of his desk in anger. He was about to open his mouth to allow a string of expletives to escape when the familiar burn flared across his forearm.

"Fuck!" he shouted, jumping out of his chair and summoning his winter cloak from the back of the door. Shrugging it onto his shoulders, he slammed his office door shut and strode quickly down the hallway toward the stairwell. When he stormed past the Defense instructor on the second flight of stairs, the other wizard donned a look of surprise.

"Severus?" he called out. "Where are you going?"

"It seems you are not the only one wanting to chat with me regarding my motivations this evening."

Remus stopped suddenly and watched the other wizard vanish up the stairs. He let out a labored breath and closed his eyes momentarily.

"Good luck," he whispered.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Upon hearing the slamming door, Hermione let out a small gasp and stood from where she had been seated on the secret stairwell connecting the office to Snape's bedroom. She wiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks and sprinted up the staircase as quickly as she could. Pushing open the bedroom door, she rushed over to the window and pulled herself on top of the bookcase that sat in front of it.

She had an unsettling feeling as to the reason for Snape's sudden vacancy of his office. Pressing her face against the chilled glass, she could just make out the edge of the gravel path leading from the front of the castle to the large iron gates at the edge of the grounds. When she caught sight of his darkened form a few minutes later, her stomach dropped in confirmation of her fears.

Voldemort had summoned him, and she could not shake the feeling that it had something to do with her. Biting her lower lip, she pulled her feet up onto the bookshelf and curled up against the window. With her eyes fixed on the sliver of gravel she could see, she resolved herself to wait for his return.

A small meow pulled her attention briefly from the window to the floor, where her familiar was preparing himself to launch up into her lap. When he landed with a slight thump, she wrapped her arms around his fluffy torso and pulled him to her chest.

"Oh, Crooks," she murmured, burying her face into his fur, "He's going to be okay, right?"

At the cat's throaty purr, Hermione took in a deep breath and rested her head against the window. It was the first time since September that he had been summoned without her – or at least the first time that she knew about – and she could not keep herself from worrying. She could hear Dumbledore's voice echoing through her head from the memory of Snape's last sudden departure.

_"He has never once failed to return –"_

_"In one piece?" her own voice sounded._

_"Severus will be fine. He has been doing this since about the time you were born, Miss Granger."_

The girl sighed and bit down on her lip. He had been deceiving the Dark Lord for nearly seventeen years because of the love he had for a woman who had been dead for more than fifteen years of that time. Based upon the fact he was still performing his duties to the Order – and the soft expression that had been on his face when speaking of her – it was clear to Hermione that he still held strong affection for Lily.

She had not intentionally set out to eavesdrop upon his conversation with Remus. She had just been heading up the stairs to find a peaceful spot to read when she heard the doors to the Great Hall being punched open and she looked back to see Snape storming toward the descending staircases. She had briefly entertained the idea of following him to see if he was alright, but she had frozen mid-step when Remus had suddenly rushed after him.

Fearing then that something had gone wrong, she had rushed up the steps and flew through the corridors until she reached the portrait entrance to his quarters. As it had done on previous occasions, the gilded frame had extended into a door and had opened at her touch. Slightly out-of-breath, the girl had moved quickly through the rooms, pushed open the back door, and had cautiously crept down the secret staircase.

She had heard the wizard slamming things around in the office, and she had paused to make sure that he was alone in the room before she actually attempted to check on him. Before she could reach the end of the staircase, however, Lupin had pushed his way into the office and the two had begun conversing – or quarreling – again.

Hermione had known she should have turned right around and gone back to Gryffindor Tower. If for any reason Snape had decided to run up to his quarters while Remus was still present, or had Remus caught scent of her, they would have both been in trouble. It had been terribly risky, but something had held her there. Without thinking, she found herself silently sinking along the wall, coming to a perch upon one of the bottom steps.

While she huddled there for what she assumed was a half hour at the very least, she barely breathed during the lulls in conversation for fear of being discovered. The men's voices were quite muffled by the stone wall separating her from the office, but she could distinguish enough of it to piece the majority of the information together.

Hermione sighed and scratched the soft patch of fur beneath her familiar's chin. While she had been angry with Remus over his still somewhat-casual attitude about their bullying – she definitely agreed that his apology had been exceptionally feeble – she could not fully condemn him for it. It was for partly the same reason that she could not fault Snape for joining the Death Eaters. She knew firsthand what it was like to want for friends and to be so desperate to curb the loneliness that sacrificing personal integrity was no longer out of the question.

Her parents had raised her to be respectful of her elders and teachers, but at the first glimmer of a possible friendship, she had lied to a number of the staff. She knew none of her professors bought the story that she had gone looking for the troll, and that they had been disappointed – or extremely displeased, as in Snape's case – in her blatant display of dishonesty. She had only progressed from there – breaking curfew, sneaking into the Restricted Section and other forbidden areas of the castle, stealing potion ingredients, and abducting reporters to name a few.

And how many times had she done Harry's and Ron's homework for them? As depressing a thought as it was, this year had been the first that she had not done any percentage of their written work for any of their classes. She had tarnished her academic integrity as well – and that was practically the only thing she had going in her favor.

Trusting Harry and Ron over herself had led to much more than a detention and broken school rules. She had taken their insistence over her own common sense time and time again, with disastrous results every time. It had led to the second rise of the Dark Lord, for Merlin's sake. She had known something was suspicious about Scabbers from the moment Crookshanks started chasing it. She had never liked that stupid rat, though, so she dismissed it as a projection of that – for a few months, at least. She should have gone to a Professor and shared her concerns, no matter how incredulous they seemed, but she had been too afraid of losing her only friends. They had still been tense with her over the Firebolt incident, and she had not wished to press their patience further. And because she had not, she had helped assault a Professor and Pettigrew had escaped to help resurrect Voldemort. How many lives in addition to Sirius's had been lost because she had not turned in a rat to McGonagall?

Hermione wiped at the tear that was slowly trickling down her cheek. She would like to think that she would never have condoned bullying or joining the ranks of an evil tyrant to secure friendship, but who honestly knew? She had already hexed Cormac, Neville, and Marietta Edgecomb to protect her friends. Not to mention, thievery, kidnapping, blackmail, sabotage, and assault were already in her repertoire.

Blowing out a long breath, she glanced down at the book she still held in her left hand. She had meant to finish the last handful of chapters that evening, but she was in no mood to read any longer. Chewing on her lip, she tossed it gently to her feet and moved her free hand to the collar of her jumper, pulling the amethyst pendant from beneath it. As she moved it back and forth along its chain, she returned her forehead to the chilled glass of the window once more and allowed Snape's admissions about Lily to replay repeatedly in her head.

It was incredibly sad; it was incredibly sweet; and the longer she thought about it, it was increasingly disheartening. Lily had retracted her friendship, married his childhood tormenter, and had been dead for a decade and a half, and yet Snape still cared for her. Hermione knew that Ron could not have had feelings of anywhere near that caliber for her. And if Ron did not, no one else ever would. Viktor had not written her in over half a year, and Cormac could not stand the sight of her any longer.

The only other option she had of being loved by a man was Snape, and his heart was already attached to a dead woman.

"Severus," she whispered softly, correcting herself as she thought. He had permitted her to use his given name when in private, and yet she could hardly use it in her own head. She thought of Remus and Sirius by their first names generally – though she had at times adopted Sna..er, Severus's manner of speaking in her head – but he had been her professor for so long that it was simply habit to think of him by his title and surname.

He had made an effort to be more personable with her, however, and had used her first name at times. If he could do that, she could at least return the favor. Plus, she figured that it would help her to distinguish between the man who stalked about the Potions classroom and the man who had promised to do everything in his power to make her life easier.

Glancing briefly toward the bed and then to the open doorway into the sitting room, the girl allowed a small smile to flicker onto her face. She no longer had to think about herself spending time in Professor Snape's quarters, for they could now be considered Severus's rooms.

Her smile quickly disappeared back into an anxious expression, though, as she returned to her silent vigil.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Nibbling on her lower lip, Hermione paced the length of the sitting room with her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. Her stomach had been twisting violently with anxiety ever since she had spotted a black figure moving along the gravel path to the castle. Glancing up at the clock on the mantle, she realized it had been nearly twenty minutes since then and still Severus had yet to return to his chambers. She knew that he had gone to give his report to Dumbledore, but she needed to see with her own eyes that he was safe.

The witch startled to a stop when the floo flared green five minutes later. Eagerly, she moved around the edge of the sofa, clutching onto the side of it to keep herself from rushing at him when he stepped out of the grate. There was a grimace etched on his face and his eyes were closed.

"Severus?" she asked, shakily.

His eyes flashed open in surprise and he immediately looked to her concerned face. "Granger, what are you doing here?"

"I heard – er, saw you leaving," she stuttered, "and I was worried. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."

"I'm fine," he muttered tensely, tightening his hands into fists. He pulled his gaze from hers and glanced in the direction of the door. "You may leave now."

Hermione hesitantly took a few steps in that direction, but paused halfway past the couch when she noticed how rigid his posture was. "Are you sure that you're –"

Snape opened his mouth to repeat his previous assurance, but his face erupted suddenly into a strained grimace. As an aftershock of the Cruciatus rippled through his body, his knees buckled beneath his weight and he had to catch himself by his armpits on the back of his leather armchair.

"Oh god! You're not alright!" she cried, rushing forward. "Oh god!"

The wizard pressed his forehead against the chair and sucked in a pained breath as another round of involuntary muscle contractions occurred. He squared his jaw and hissed slightly as pain flared across his spine when she gently touched his shoulder.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!" she whimpered, pulling her hand away as though it had been burned. "Is there something I can do?"

When the episode subsided, Severus slowly lowered himself to a kneeling position on the floor. He pinched his eyes shut and wiped the perspiration from his brow with the back of his sleeve. His voice was shaky as he tried to regulate his breathing. "There's a light blue potion in my bedside cabinet."

"Okay! I'll be right back, sir!" The witch sprinted into the bedroom, nearly tripping over the leg of the sofa in the process.

"And for Merlin's sake, could you stop shouting?" he snapped.

"Sorry!" she called, before wincing at the realization that she had just shouted at him once more. With panicked motions, she yanked the drawer out of the cabinet with more force than was necessary and ended up spilling all of its contents onto the ground.

"Shit," she hissed, dropping to her knees to dig through the modest pile of vials and other artifacts. At last, she grabbed one of the correct flasks and she immediately rushed back to his side. She uncorked the stopper and held it out to him. "Here."

The man snatched it from her grasp and tossed it back before his unsteady hands could spill more than a few drops onto the carpet. He tossed the empty vial away from him and then attempted to pull himself to his feet. When he stumbled slightly, Hermione grabbed hold of his elbow and helped guide him to a seat on the couch.

She let out an anxious breath upon feeling a spasm ripple through his arm, and tears began stinging her eyes as she watched him set his jaw against the pain. She removed her hand from him and used it to wipe her eyes.

"What happened, sir?" she whispered upon noticing that some of the tension had left his face. When several seconds passed without any indication of his hearing the question, she swallowed nervously and tentatively touched the sleeve of his robes. "Severus, please tell me – did this have anything to do with my not going to the Burrow with Harry?"

As he paused and then slowly started shaking his head, the girl launched to her feet and crossed her arms. "Don't lie to me!"

Snape let his eyes drift closed and sighed.

He did not need to say anything else, for Hermione had already taken it as confirmation of her fear. Feeling sick to her stomach and unable to breathe, she ran both hands through her hair and resumed her earlier pacing. "Oh my god! I should have gone! This is all my fault! I knew I should have gone! I'm so sorry!"

"Granger!" he shouted gruffly, grabbing hold of her wrist to catch her attention. "Would you stop? I've suffered worse. Merlin, _you've_ suffered worse."

She looked at him with moist eyes and a quivering bottom lip. "But if I'd have just gone with Harry, this wouldn't have happened. This is my fault."

"STOP!" he bellowed, shaking her arm. "Stop pacing, stop talking nonsense, and for heaven's sake, would you stop blaming yourself! It was _my_ decision on whether or not to send you, and I knew full well the consequences of that decision."

"But why –"

"Leave it be," Severus ground out, pushing off of the couch. "What's done is done, and it would be best if you left now."

She stared after him in concern. His color was worse than when he had arrived and he was exceptionally stiff as he moved past her. "Where are you going?"

"With all of your yapping, I find myself in need of headache relief," he sneered upon entering his bedroom.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and started following him. "You should be sitting down. Let me get it for you."

"I thought I told you to leave."

Frowning, she continued moving through the bedroom and into the lavatory. "I just want to help you."

Without warning, the man whirled around and glared at her. "I don't need your help! Now, leave me alone!"

"Severus, please …" Her voice died away at the sudden heat flaring across her lower back. With tears spilling down her cheeks, she cast one last glance at the unwavering look on his face before running away in the direction of his outstretched hand.

She choked back a sob when she heard the bathroom door slam shut behind her. The pain subsided as soon as she crossed the threshold into the sitting room, so she came to a stop in the middle of the room. She brought both hands to cover her face and let the tears fall.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Minerva scowled at the sound of a cat yowling at her bedroom door. She was midway through wrapping Filius's present and still had a number of the staff gifts left to go. As per usual, she was wrapping them by hand – partly as a reminder of her childhood and partly just to prove that she still could – and as per usual, it was heightening her level of frustration. There was always excess paper on the ends and trying to keep the edges straight upon trimming them was enough to set the woman to cursing beneath her breath.

"Two bloody minutes, Malina!" she shouted over her shoulder. "It hasn't been that long since you were last fed! You won't starve to death, I promise."

When another yowl sounded, the witch rolled her eyes and continued taping the package. "Shut it, ya boot!"

As she grabbed a strip of red ribbon to tie around the silver box, she gave a startled cry when a tiny black ball of fur launched out from underneath a pile of wrapping paper and attached itself to the end of the ribbon with all four sets of claws. Minerva attempted to extract the ribbon from the cat, but when that failed she sighed and let it go.

"Well if you've been in here the whole time, who's out there, hmm?" the witch muttered, stepping off of her bed. The black cat tossed a disinterested look toward the door before dragging her latest 'kill' back under her holiday-themed fortress.

The greying witch clucked in disapproval and pulled open the door to see a familiar ginger-furred tom sitting on his haunches, flicking his tail in impatience. Upon seeing that he had her attention, Crookshanks turned and trotted toward the door to the corridor.

With an eyebrow raised, McGonagall followed the sauntering feline into the hallway and down the turning flight of steps to Severus's portrait door. Not wishing to intrude upon her colleague's privacy unless it was absolutely necessary, she glanced down at the cat with a questioning expression. When the creature simply blinked and swished his tail in response, she nodded and touched her hand to the frame.

As the door swung open, the bandy-legged feline immediately darted into the room and leaped onto the sofa. Minerva stepped into the room, but paused upon seeing her favorite student curled into the corner of the sofa with tear tracks glistening down her cheeks.

"Miss Granger?" she asked in concern.

The girl's head snapped up and her eyes widened slightly as she scrambled to her feet. "Professor! Please check on him! He's hurt and won't let me help him! I tried, but he made me –"

"Slow down, Miss Granger," McGonagall stated softly, holding up two hands. "What happened?"

"He was summoned and I think he's hurt," she squeaked, gesturing in the direction of the bathroom. "I tried to help him, but he yelled at me to leave him alone. I want to know if he's alright, but I can't…I can't check...not without setting it off again."

While Minerva had been anxious over the spy's welfare, her eyes flared at the girl's last statement. "Are you in pain?"

She shook her head. "It went away when I did what he said. Please check on him!"

"Oh, I'll check on him," the elder witch grumbled, storming through the bedroom. As she threw open the bathroom door, the dark-haired wizard looked up, clearly startled. "Severus Snape, that girl is only trying to help –"

She trailed off mid-tirade upon noticing the wizard's current state. He had stripped out of his dark robes, and his bloodied, white shirt hung open so that a portion of his torso was exposed. Deep red gashes lined his pale chest, and there were a few blood-stained rags tossed into the sink basin. His shoulders were slumped slightly as he gripped tightly onto the edge of the sink with one hand while the other shook slightly as it held a wet rag.

"Severus?" Her voice faltered as she moved farther into the room.

"Close the door," he stated hoarsely. "She doesn't need to see this."

The deputy headmistress nodded in agreement and pulled the door shut behind her. She stepped cautiously towards him and gently pulled one edge of his shirt back to examine his wounds. She swallowed anxiously, noting the clamminess of his skin, and flicked her eyes up to the man's face. "Severus, these are deep. You should have gone to see Poppy."

"I'm perfectly capable of healing them myself," he snapped, trying to shrug off her hand.

"Then why haven't you?" she countered, fixing him with a pointed look.

Snape huffed and held up his wobbling hand. "Woman, I have no intention of pointing a wand at myself if I can't bloody hold it steady."

"Which is exactly why you should have gone to Poppy, you blithering imbecile." She shook her head in frustration and pointed toward the commode. "For Merlin's sake, sit down before you pass out."

The wizard muttered bitterly under his breath, but did as he was instructed.

"Why didn't Albus send you to the infirmary?"

He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Because I managed to make it here before any of the aftershocks set in."

"So you just sat there bleeding and said nothing?" she hissed with wide eyes.

"I did not plan on there being much of a delay," he explained, wincing. "There was not a great deal to report."

The witch stared at him in disbelief and then let out a frustrated sigh. She busied herself with learning the organization of his medical supplies and spoke over her shoulder. "You've finished washing the wounds?"

"Yes," he snarled, leaning back and closing his eyes. "No need for you to lick them clean."

"Well, you must not be on death's door if you can still exert the energy to insult anyone attempting to aid you."

"I didn't ask for a nursemaid," he huffed when she spun around holding a flask of blood-replenishing potion. "And I already took one of those."

"Clearly one dose was not enough," she responded with a raised eyebrow. "That bampot poltergeist has better coloring than you do at the moment. And if you didn't think you needed my assistance, you would have forcibly removed me by now."

When Severus opened his mouth to retort, she seized hold of his chin and emptied the flask into his mouth. Coughing slightly, he swallowed the potion and glared at her. "Your bedside manner leaves something to be desired, witch."

Minerva snorted and conjured up a stool in front of him. She gingerly touched the edge of one of his gashes and apologized under her breath when he flinched. With a determined look on her face, she slipped her wand from her robes and set about working to stitch the angry flesh back together.

As she continued working, the wizard sighed and looked to the wall as he attempted to ignore the painful twinges. "Is she alright?"

The woman glanced up at him briefly before returning her focus to his abdomen. "She isn't in pain, if that's what you're asking, but she is quite upset. She's practically beside herself worrying about you."

He grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut. "I didn't mean to snap at her, but she wouldn't listen otherwise. She already thinks it's her fault and I don't want her knowing the extent of it."

"If you didn't want her knowing, then why is she here?" she asked without pausing her work.

"Well I certainly didn't _invite_ her!" he hissed. "The last thing I needed was a welcoming party upon my return, but the blasted castle saw fit to admit her entrance without my knowledge or permission."

Minerva raised one eyebrow as she moved onto the final injury. "The castle doesn't do that."

"Apparently it does now," he sighed. "She's been breaking into my quarters nearly as long as that ruddy cat of hers has been. I know she's broken into yours as well."

"She didn't _break_ into my quarters, Severus," the witch corrected, surveying the results of her spellwork. "I left instructions with Reginald that she be allowed entrance if ever she were in need."

"Who the… fuck… is Reginald?" he ground out, grimacing as he suffered through a short episode of muscle spasms.

The witch averted her sad gaze to the cupboard, from where she extracted a bottle of dittany.

"The cub in my painting," she answered quietly as she returned to her stool. She dribbled a few drops of the cold, brown liquid along the freshly-sealed flesh to prevent scarring. "The castle is sentient, yes, but it does not bid anyone entrance to staff quarters unless permission of some sort has been given and recognized."

Snape narrowed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. "Then what the bloody fuck…"

"Severus," the woman stated, catching his attention. "Why does Hermione think it's her fault? And why am I playing nursemaid right now instead of wrapping your Christmas gift?"

The wizard sighed and hung his head slightly. "The Dark Lord was not thrilled that I didn't convince the Headmaster to send her with Potter for the holiday. When he tired of expressing his displeasure with me, he delegated the task to a few other eager individuals."

McGonagall frowned angrily as she stared at the pink lines on his chest. She shook her head and stood from her stool. "You were expecting this, weren't you?"

He looked to the floor and sighed deeply, causing the new skin on his chest to pull uncomfortably. "She wished to remain here, but it was _my_ decision. This is not her fault."

"I know." The witch sighed and gently placed her hand on his head. "You're a good man, Severus. Unbelievably stupid, but still a good man."

She removed her hand, vanished the stool, and flicked her wand at the tub. "A good man who is incredibly lucky to still be conscious and who needs to bathe and sleep."

Snape glared at the back of her head and attempted to fold his arms across his chest only to wince and drop his hands back to his lap. When she had finished filling the tub and turned to look at him expectantly, he scowled. "You can desist with your mothering now."

"Oh I _can_, can I?" she smirked, folding her arms. "Are you capable of getting in and out of the tub without falling and cracking your skull?"

"Yes," he snapped. After she raised an eyebrow in challenge, he huffed bitterly and pushed himself off of the commode. He took two steps toward the tub and raised his arms. "Satisfied?"

"You won't drown in the event of another –"

"No. The potion has reduced the tremors."

Minerva grunted and put her hand on the door knob. "If you feel faint, give a shout."

"Go," he grumbled, resting against the edge of the tub.

The witch gave a tired sigh at seeing the slight quiver in his arms, but relented and pulled open the door. Before shutting it behind her, however, she wordlessly cast a _divesto_ over her shoulder.

"Woman!" came his muffled, angry shout.

"Get in the tub," she yelled through the door, shaking her head. She knew it was rude of her to do, but she did not want to take the risk that he would injure himself further because he was too stubborn to take his boots off with magic. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, waiting until she heard the sound of him slipping into the water before stepping away from the door.

Feeling Hermione's anxious gaze on her, the witch turned and gave her a brief reassuring smile. Before joining her in the sitting room, however, she moved over to the bed and turned down the covers. Noticing the up-turned drawer on the floor, she quickly set to righting the mess and then stood again to make sure nothing else in the room required adjusting.

Pausing for a moment, she grabbed hold of one of the bed posts and covered her mouth with her hand. Stifling a sob, she blinked away the tears that were threatening to form in her eyes. Blowing out a deep breath, she smoothed her hands down the front of her robes and raised her chin as she stepped away from the bed.

"Is he alright?" Hermione gasped, wrapping her arms tightly about her waist.

McGonagall gave a tense smile and nodded her head. "He just needs rest and he'll be back to his usual self."

The girl nodded nervously and collapsed onto the sofa. "I didn't mean to make him angry."

"It wasn't you," she sighed, taking a seat beside her student. She gently patted the girl's hand and glanced at the fire. "Severus is not angry with you, and he regrets giving you that impression. He's just overwhelmed and tired –"

"And in pain," the younger witch moaned, covering her face. "I should have just gone with Harry."

"Miss Granger…Hermione, listen to me," the professor stated softly, taking the girl's hands in hers. "This is not your fault. Severus knows it isn't. I know it isn't. You need to know that it isn't."

The girl took in a shuddering breath and leaned forward as tears began falling down her cheeks again. When she finally nodded, the elder witch wrapped her arms about the girl's shoulders. Hermione slipped her own arms around the woman's waist and hid her face in the soft velvet of her robes.

Minerva slowly rubbed along the girl's spine with one hand and protectively placed the other hand at the back of the girl's head. Rocking slightly, she whispered quiet reassurances into the girl's ear.

"Professor?" Hermione asked a few minutes later.

"Hmmm?"

The young Gryffindor pulled away slightly and wiped her eyes. "He's really okay?"

"As much as I hate to say this, Hermione," she responded sadly, "he's been through much worse. Give him a day to recover and he'll be stalking about the corridors, stripping Gryffindor of every point he can manage."

The girl snorted softly and replaced her head on the woman's chest. "Do you think I can stay here tonight?"

"Well, I don't think Severus is in any position to toss us out," Minerva smirked, settling more comfortably against the back of the couch. She tightened her hold on the girl and then looked over her shoulder when she heard the bathroom door open. Squinting, she made out the man's form moving stiffly through the darkened room and collapsing onto the bed. She heard the rustling of the bedcovers and then looked down in surprise when the ginger cat jumped off the back of the couch and ambled confidently into the dark bedroom. Snorting softly, she rested her head against the sofa and closed her eyes.

_No position at all._

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

At the feel of something wet scratching his forehead, Severus propped one eyelid open. Grunting at the sight of the fluffy nuisance licking his face, he lazily pushed the cat away and struggled to sit upright. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced at the low light streaming in from the window and decided it must be nearing eight. When his bladder agreed, he groaned softly and forced his aching body out of bed.

After relieving himself, he hobbled out of the bathroom and glanced into the sitting room. Upon seeing Hermione stretched out on the sofa, he let out a sigh and moved over to his wardrobe. Ripping open the bottom drawer, he pulled out the Gryffindor-themed tartan throw and began slowly moving into the living area.

As he unfolded the blanket, the sound of light snoring caught his attention. Glancing in that direction, he rolled his eyes at seeing Minerva asleep in his armchair, with her feet propped up on a transfigured ottoman.

"Turning into a bloody boarding house now," he sputtered, tossing the blanket over the younger witch. With a shake of his head, he began limping back to his room.

"Severus?"

He stopped at the gravelly voice and took in a deep breath before turning around. "Yes?"

"I would have assumed you would have burned that hideous thing by now," McGonagall murmured softly.

Snape raised one eyebrow and glanced at the blanket that the sleeping girl had instinctually pulled up to her chin. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"Why didn't you?"

He shrugged slightly and leaned against the door jamb. "I figured it would be impolite for one to burn all of his Christmas gifts."

"Well if you didn't burn that, I can't imagine you burning anything else," she chuckled.

"Just Albus's socks."

When she laughed loudly, he glared at her and flicked his gaze towards the girl. She did not stir, however, and Minerva whispered an apology while shifting in her chair. "I generally just leave mine out as a present for Dobby. I can't remember what I did before he showed up."

"So you're the one encouraging him," he sneered softly. "You wouldn't also happen to be the source of those god-awful knit hats?"

"No," she smirked. "Though I do believe she is snoozing on your couch right now."

"Of course she is." He rolled his eyes and gently pushed away from the wall. "Bleeding heart Gryffindors."

"Severus," McGonagall whispered more seriously. When he paused in his motions, she continued. "If it will make it easier for you, she is willing to stay with the Weasleys."

Snape winced slightly but nodded. "I will take it into consideration. Now if you will excuse me, I have no compulsion to pass out while standing."

He took a few more steps into the bedroom and then glanced back at her again. "See to it that she doesn't drool all over my furniture."

The elderly witch snorted and crossed her arms. "I shall do my best. Good night, Severus."

"Good night, Minerva," he mumbled before shutting the bedroom door.

Technically it was well into the morning, but Severus did not bother correcting her. Grimacing at the lighted window, he drew the curtains with a flick of his wrist and then collapsed back onto the mattress. He drew the covers over his shoulder, closed his eyes, and did not utter a single complaint when the ginger cat curled up against the side of his head.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione yawned as she stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning. Since the ominous times had everyone on edge, there were only a handful or two of students left in the entire castle. As such, the elaborately decorated Great Hall held a lone, long table covered in a twinkling white cloth. The dais where the staff table normally sat now hosted three rather ostentatious fir trees.

Sighing softly, she slowly pulled a chair out from the table and gave a small smile to the two Hufflepuff siblings who were already halfway through their bowls of porridge. Since they seemed perfectly content in conversing amongst themselves, she pulled the plate of pastries closer to herself, selected the most appetizing one, and then cracked open her book.

She had finished reading the first tome the day before as there was little else for her to do. McGonagall had shooed her out of Severus's quarters shortly before lunch, explaining that he would simply be sleeping the rest of the day and did not need them harassing him further. Neither of them could coax Crookshanks out of the bedroom, however, so the Deputy Headmistress decided Severus would just have to deal with the furry interloper.

As Gryffindor Tower was currently only hosting four students over the holiday break – two third years and a first year in addition to Hermione – there was no one really to engage her in conversation, so the witch had spent the majority of the day reading in the Common Room. After supper, she had toiled over her Arithmancy project for a few hours in the Library before retiring to bed early.

"Good morning, Miss Granger!"

The witch raised her eyes from the book to see that the other students had since left and that Professor Flitwick had appeared at the table. With a smile, she returned his jubilant greeting. "Good morning, Professor."

"Slept well, I hope," the diminutive wizard smiled as he reached for a platter of toast.

"Quite well, yes," she nodded, closing her book. It was not a lie. She had slept much better knowing that Snape was alive and mending. She was no longer worried about him, knowing that both her Head of House and her familiar were keeping an eye on him.

"Any Christmas gifts you're looking exceptionally forward to?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of bread and jam.

Hermione wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "Not really, no. What about you, Professor?"

Filius chuckled. "Oh, no. The few gifts I get from my Ravenclaws are generally enjoyable, but I'm afraid that's about it. Minerva usually does well, I suppose, but I can always expect a ghastly pair of pants from my brother and an equally garish pair of socks from the Headmaster."

"Oh dear," she grimaced, pouring herself a glass of pumpkin juice. "That doesn't sound fun at all."

He shrugged and winked as he leaned across the empty seat between them. "It doesn't bother me really, you see. Next Christmas, my brother will undoubtedly receive a garish pair of socks, and the Headmaster a ghastly pair of pants."

The girl giggled quietly and folded her arms onto the table.

"Quite a coincidence if I do say so myself," the Charms Professor grinned, settling back in his chair.

"Indeed it is," she nodded before taking a sip from her glass.

"Have you had any thoughts regarding what you'd like to do after Hogwarts?"

"Oh, erm, not really," she mumbled, setting down her glass. "I guess I haven't thought about it."

"It's never too early to start thinking!" Flitwick remarked, leaning forward. "Have you looked into any of the Wizarding Universities?"

The witch grimaced internally as she shook her head.

"Well, you have a bit of time left," he shrugged, wiping at some crumbs on the table. "And if ever you need a reference from someone other than Minerva, I would be more than willing to write you a glowing recommendation!"

"Oh, well, thank you for –"

"Ah, Severus!" the half-goblin called, causing Hermione to glance up in surprise. "You look well-rested!"

The tall wizard grunted and pulled out a chair across the table from his colleague. "Yes, it is remarkable how restful it is not having any of the urchins under foot."

The girl snorted under her breath and picked up her book again. Relief flooded through her both at seeing Snape looking well and since it appeared that Flitwick's attention was focused elsewhere.

Filius shook his head and grabbed his goblet of juice. "With how much you complain about the students, Severus, it has always surprised me that you would have decided to pursue a career in teaching."

"Perhaps it was simply to upend your knowledge of the universe, Filius," the Slytherin replied, filling his plate. "Clearly, there can be no other explanation."

While Hermione smiled behind her book, the other professor raised his brow slightly at seeing the amount being piled onto the plate. "I honestly do not remember you ever taking so much food."

"Is it suddenly not allowed?" he scowled with an eyebrow raised in challenge. "Or am I now required to wait until you've turned your head to stuff my pockets?"

The young Gryffindor bit down on her lip to keep from laughing aloud while Flitwick sputtered a nervous response.

"No, no, of course not! It was merely an observation, Severus! I did not mean to suggest you were doing anything wrong – just that it was out of the ordinary for you."

Snape sighed lightly as he picked up his fork. "I did not have much to eat yesterday."

"Oh," the Ravenclaw nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Caught up in your work again, were you?"

"One could say that," the dark-haired man replied casually before taking a bite of sausage. He spent a few minutes eating quietly before clearing his throat. "Has no one ever told you, Miss Granger, that it is rude to read at the dining table?"

Her earlier amusement now sobered by the turn in topic, Hermione slowly lowered her book and met his seemingly disapproving expression. "My apologies, Professor. I was not under the impression that you wished me to participate in conversation."

The corner of his eyes pinched slightly before he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "I did not mean to engage you in conversation, Granger. I merely wished to point out that your table manners leave something to be desired."

Eyes burning slightly, the girl willed herself not to say anything stupid as she snapped her book shut and set it beside her plate. "I am terribly sorry to have offended you, sir."

"Oooh, Severus is offended again, eh?" Professor Sprout smirked as she took a seat directly beside the man. "It's nice to know that we can depend upon some things never changing."

"Must we, Pomona?" Snape sighed, angling his head in the girl's direction.

"Oh, pish-posh," the woman chuckled, winking at Hermione. "Miss Granger is one of the most respectful students we have. I think it might do her some good to shake-up her perspective a bit."

His eyebrows narrowed as he viewed the plump witch with suspicion. "And just how intoxicated are we this morning, hmm?"

Pomona tittered quietly as she fixed herself a cup of tea, but said nothing.

Flitwick sheepishly ducked his head and cleared his throat. "Hagrid hosted a small gathering last night."

"Of course he did," Severus sighed.

"We were going to invite you, but Minerva mentioned that you were indisposed and would not be interested in joining us," the small wizard explained.

"Indeed." He rolled his eyes and glanced in the girl's direction. Hermione was chewing on her lip, flicking her curious gaze between the three Heads of House. When she caught his eyes briefly, she blushed lightly and averted her attention to the glass of pumpkin juice in front of her. Shaking his head slightly, Severus raised his eyebrows at the witch beside him. "And while the two of you are interested in airing dirty laundry in front of the students, are Poppy's stores of Hangover-Relief potions holding up under the strain of your gaiety?"

"Oh, they'll get us through the New Year, more than likely," Sprout smirked, picking up her teacup. "And stop fussing about your reputation where Granger is concerned. She wouldn't share your secret with anyone, now would you?"

Hermione gave an awkward smile as she shook her head.

"See!" Pomona grinned, gesturing with her head. "Who knows? Perhaps she'll even have a faculty position here one day."

"Now _that_ is an option," Flitwick beamed at the young witch. "I know you haven't thought much about your future, but you would be well suited to a career in teaching."

"Erm, thank you," the girl stammered, folding her arms on the table. "I'll, erm, keep that in mind."

When the other two professors glanced at her in excitement, the Slytherin drew in a bored breath as he picked up his fork once more. "And just whom are we hypothetically sacking for her to do so?"

Pomona shrugged as took a sip of her tea. "Well, I've heard on several occasions that she shows a remarkable talent in brewing potions."

His eyes snapped to her in a glare and then to Filius when the Charms Professor laughed lightly.

"You never know, Severus," he smiled. "By then you may have tired of upending my knowledge of the universe and would welcome the reprieve. Perhaps you'll even have your own little urchins under foot that you'll be busy looking after."

Sprout snorted and barely managed to avoid spraying tea across the table. When she had wiped her mouth with her napkin, she shook her head and chortled. "Oh yes, Severus. Time _is_ ticking away, isn't it? You only have another decent eighty to a hundred years left in you after all."

"For fuck's sake," he snarled, pushing out of his chair. "The two of you are utterly repulsive. With any luck, Pomona, the Chomping-Ferns will get you and then Longbottom can gain employment as well."

He grabbed his plate of food, and paused momentarily upon noticing the uneasy expression on Hermione's face as she stared at the table. "Granger, does your eavesdropping interfere with your ability to eat?"

The young witch hesitantly raised her eyes to his. She recognized that his pointed stare was to be taken as an instruction to eat more than half of a cream cheese Danish, and as he stormed away with his plate in hand, she silently began picking at the remainder of the pastry.

"Oh, don't fret, Granger," Pomona snickered, sharing a glance with her Ravenclaw counterpart. "Between Filius and I, we can scrounge up enough points for Gryffindor to make up for any he takes away from you."

Hermione attempted a weak smile, but it quickly faltered as did her appetite. She pushed her plate away from her and after a few minutes, she politely excused herself from the hall.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Later that afternoon, Hermione sat curled up in the window seat of her room, staring out at the snowflakes being battered about by the wailing winds. She shivered lightly and wrapped her arms tight around her waist as she continued muddling through her thoughts. The conversation in the Great Hall really should not have bothered her, and yet it had.

She had felt strangely ambushed by Flitwick's innocuous questions about her future plans, and Sprout had only contributed to her rising anxiety. Looking at University and thinking about careers was something that normal people did. She was no longer normal, so why should she? And what did it matter anyway if she would not be around to accomplish those goals?

Death had always been at the back of her mind as a possible outcome for her involvement in the war. She had not given it much thought during her first two years at Hogwarts, but every subsequent year the probability of that outcome had increased bit by bit. How could it not when she had narrowly escaped an attack by a werewolf or watched as Harry brought back Cedric's body from the maze? After the battle at the Ministry, the severity of her injuries had again made her consider the fact that she had cheated Death once more.

But how many times could someone cheat Death before he came to collect? She had known that dying was a possibility for years, but somehow she had always chucked it in the 'slim to none' bin. Everything that had happened since August, however, had changed that. Death had suddenly become the most likely outcome in her head. After nearly drowning in the Black Lake, nearly suffocating on pain in Snape's classroom, ignoring the binding magic's need for renewal until she had reached the point that she could not walk on her own, and sitting in this very spot as she contemplated taking her own life, she had had more near-death experiences in the span of a few months than she had had in the rest of her seventeen years on Earth.

Being in the presence of Lord Voldemort was akin to staring into the face of Death himself. His hissing voice grated on her nerves, his piercing red eyes made her feel as though she were about to shrivel up and die, and the iciness of his hand on her skin was similar enough to a dementor sucking the soul from her body. Every time she had gone before him, she had fully doubted whether she would ever make it back.

And with her life bound to Severus's, the margin for survival was that much slimmer. She had been made painfully aware of that fact two nights prior when he had collapsed into convulsions in front of her. The Dark Lord had done that to him even though he believed the spy's loyalty lay with him. If he were ever to discover otherwise, Severus was a dead man. The idea that he had another eighty years left in him had about a snowball's chance in hell of holding true.

With that in mind, Hermione saw no point in daydreaming about a future that was not likely to exist. She was exhausted enough focusing on the here-and-now, so she would not waste the energy thinking about which aspect of the magical world she was best suited for or whether or not Severus would actually desire children at some point in time.

_That's a strange thought, regardless of the outcome._ The girl sighed and rubbed her face. Three months prior she had been panicked beyond belief at the idea of carrying his child, and now she found herself trying to suppress the disappointment that had sparked with the notion of not living long enough to raise children.

_Stop thinking about it!_ She frowned and lightly smacked the back of her head against the wall. _It doesn't do you any good to dwell on it, so just leave it be!_

Realizing that she needed something to do to take her mind off of depressing topics, the witch slid off of the window seat and moved toward her desk. She glanced briefly at the pile of library books, but crinkled her nose at the idea of working on Arithmancy again. With a sigh, she picked up the book she had been reading at breakfast. Before she crawled onto her bed, her attention was caught by the red envelope poking out from the top desk drawer.

Biting down on her lip, she pulled out the card she had addressed to her parents. She had bought the card when in Hogsmeade and had written it out with the intention of asking Severus to deliver it before Christmas. That had been before his summoning, however, and now she could not quite find the courage to ask him. There were only two more days before the holiday, and the last time he had taken her letter, he had been gone all day. She did not feel right asking him to go if he was still recovering, and she had no wish to send him out on Christmas Eve. There was no doubt in her mind that if she were to ask, he would do it even if he were not feeling well enough to go.

"It'll just have to be a New Year's card instead." Shaking her head, she slipped the card back in the drawer and collapsed on her bed. She scratched Crookshanks under the chin and kissed him on the head before cracking open her book. As she settled into reading, the cat curled up against her thigh and began snoring softly.

**'Granger.'**

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the voice in her head, but continued reading. _'Yes?'_

**'If you are not…if you would…Sod it, Granger! Would you put the damn book down? It's bloody distracting.'**

_'Sorry._' She snorted softly and let the book fall closed on her chest.

**'If you would, quickly pack a travel bag and be in my quarters in an hour.'**

'_Travel?_' she took in an anxious breath as she pulled herself into a seated position. _'You're taking me to the Burrow, aren't you?_'

When he said nothing immediately in reply, she pushed off of the mattress and crossed to her wardrobe. _'It's okay if you are. I'm happy to go.'_

**'One hour, Granger.'**

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Less than forty-five minutes later, Hermione stepped across the threshold into his quarters with a sizeable bag slung over her shoulder.

"You've finished already?" Severus asked, glancing up from his chair.

She nodded and set the bag on the couch. "Yes, I believe so."

"I was under the impression that most women take ages to pack a bag."

"Most women, perhaps," she sighed scratching her neck. "Not me. At least not when I know what to expect. If I don't know the circumstances, then yes, I will panic and attempt to pack everything I could possibly need."

Grunting in approval, the wizard stood from his chair and tossed on his winter cloak before snatching her luggage from the sofa. Slinging it over his shoulder, he then picked up another sack from the end table that he dropped into a pocket of his cloak.

As she watched him, the girl sighed and then donned her own outer wear. As she finished pulling on her gloves and tucking her scarf into her coat, she glanced up to see that he had moved beside her.

"Are you ready?" he asked. At her nod, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her against his frame. Before she could manage a surprised squeak, he _accio_-ed a small book from the highest shelf in the room. As it hit his hand, the room spun quickly into a whirling blur and was then replaced by an outdoor scene.

Gasping, Hermione stepped away from him and glanced around at the snowy hilltop where they had just appeared. With a frown, she looked back at him. "You used a portkey?"

"Obviously."

Her eyebrows narrowed considerably as she folded her arms against her chest. "Was that a _legal_ portkey?"

Snape gave her a pointed look as he slipped his woven bag from his pocket and stowed the book in it.

"I'll take that as a no." The witch sighed good-naturedly and took a few steps to peer out over the quiet and unfamiliar valley. A gentle snowfall was occurring, in stark contrast to the winter storm that was plaguing the Hogwarts castle. "Where are we? This doesn't look like anywhere near the Burrow. I don't recognize anything at all."

"Is it necessary for you to question everything?" he grumbled.

Hermione spun around in surprise. "What? Aren't you the one always telling me not to follow blindly?"

"True enough," he grunted, digging in his bag.

"And I was just curious," she mumbled, returning to her surveying of the territory. "I trust you enough to know you're not leading me into a trap."

"We are not terribly far from Ottery St. Catchpole actually. No more than thirty kilometers," the wizard responded as he pulled out two miniature broomsticks. With a flick of his wand, he returned them to their original size and held one out to her as she looked back to him.

Her eyes widened in surprise and she shook her head emphatically. "Oh no no no! I'm not flying. Absolutely not!"

"And why the hell not?"

"Because!" she hissed, waving her arms about frantically. "I hate flying! I hate brooms! I can't do it. I _won't_ do it."

Severus's features morphed into disbelief. "Well, we're not using magic to travel any farther. We can't run the risk of being traced, and we sure as hell are not walking such a distance."

The girl shook her head again at the proffered broom and crossed her arms in defiance. "Then I have no idea what we're going to do, because there is no way I'm flying _that_ anywhere."

Rolling his eyes and muttering nastily under his breath, he minimized the second broomstick and stuffed it back into the sack in his pocket. Gripping the other broom securely, he gracefully swung one leg over it and settled in the middle of the stick. Sliding forward slightly and kicking off the ground, he cursed under his breath when the floating broom began to wobble slightly. Upon landing, he cautiously slid further towards the back of the broom, readjusted the bag on his right shoulder and once again tested its stability in flight. Satisfied that it would remain steady under his control, he artfully glided to a stop in front of the girl. Grabbing hold of her hand, he gently tugged her forward and gestured for her to sit in front of him.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Hermione glanced nervously at the floating broom and attempted to swallow her fear.

Frowning at the feel of her hand quivering in his, the wizard cleared his throat. "You really are scared of flying, aren't you?"

"What was your first clue?" she snapped lightly.

Severus sighed and rubbed his forehead with his other hand. "What is it that makes you most uncomfortable?"

"The whole possibility-of-falling bit."

"That's simple enough," he muttered. "A temporary sticking charm will easily secure your arse to the broom."

The girl whimpered slightly and unconsciously squeezed his hand. "And then there's the whole seeing everything whizzing at you and beneath you."

"Perhaps closing your eyes would help," he smirked. At her glare, he let out a deep breath and shook his head. "Alright, fine. This is what we will do. If you sit facing me, it will reduce the amount of motion you experience, and if you place your head on my shoulder, I believe I will still be able to see enough around that bushy-hair of yours to keep us from colliding with anything."

Eventually nodding, Hermione hesitantly mounted the broom as per his instructions. She wrapped her legs about his waist, slipped her arms around his torso, and tucked her head against his left shoulder.

Wincing at the intimacy of their positioning, the wizard coughed quietly and tapped her on the back. "Granger, you're not going to fall. You do not need to hold on quite so tightly."

"I know," came her muffled response, though she made no effort to loosen her grip.

Willing himself to not get distracted by anything other than flying, he leaned forward enough to place both hands on the broom handle. As he kicked off of the ground, he whispered to himself. "Try not to get any ideas in your head."

Gulping at the sensation of the broom leaving the ground, she shook her head against his collarbone. "I'll be too busy trying not to vomit to think about anything else."

Severus snorted as he ascended to an appropriate height to give them cloud cover. "Vomit on me, Granger, and there will be serious repercussions."

"Noted," she whispered, closing her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she relaxed slightly as the scent of his robes filled her nostrils. On top of his normal smell – which she had no idea how to classify – there was a hint of peppermint, ginger, and something else – fennel, maybe. "Were you brewing today?"

The man raised one eyebrow and briefly glanced down at the witch wrapped around him. "Are you sniffing me?"

"Not on purpose," she clarified. "It's kind of hard not to at the moment."

"Well, beggars cannot be choosers," he stated simply.

Hermione frowned without opening her eyes. "I didn't say it was bad. It's rather nice actually, I think. It's calming my stomach a bit."

"I imagine it would," he muttered with an amused shake of his head. "I did not take Pomona at her word and spent the morning brewing another batch of Hangover-Relief potion."

"Ah," she whispered softly, burrowing her nose into the collar of his robes to protect it from the chill of the air. With the strong warmth of his body pressed against hers and his arms firmly secured around her body, she was nowhere near as affected by her fear of flight as she had when riding on Buckbeak or the thestral. Resolving herself to silence for the remainder of the trip, she simply focused on keeping herself relaxed.

As the sky darkened into early evening, Snape was amazed by her ability to remain quiet. He would have assumed that she had fallen asleep were it not for the fact that any slight drops in altitude or turns in direction caused her to make a squawking sound and clench her thighs. Other than that, his only other complaint was that her hair liked to flit about in the wind, tickling his nose and poking him in the eye. He could deal with it for the short remainder of this flight, but on the return trip the witch would definitely be forced to tie it back.

Recognizing his intended destination, the wizard slowed the broom's speed and smoothly descended to the small forested area. When his boots touched the snow-covered earth, he let go of the broom handle and leaned backwards. Wincing slightly at the popping of a few vertebrae, he cleared his throat and tapped the girl on the hip. "Granger, dismount please. I am starting to lose feeling in my legs."

Hermione's eyes popped open and she pulled her head back enough to notice that they were in fact on solid ground. With a mumbled apology, she extricated herself from his frame and promptly fell off of the broom into a pile of snow. As the sound of laughter filled her ears, she glared up at him from the ground. "It's not funny!"

"I believe that's a matter of opinion," he sneered, easily alighting from his broom. He held out one hand to offer her assistance. With a huff, she grabbed onto him and was immediately grateful for his support when she nearly fell over again. He waited somewhat patiently during the few minutes it took for her hips and legs to begin functioning normally, before dropping her hand.

When he picked up the broom and began walking away from her, she quickly scampered after him. As they walked through the dark copse of trees, she made sure to keep close enough to him that she could grab him if need be. Upon reaching the edge of the woods, she frowned in confusion.

"This isn't the Burrow," she remarked as she peered around him and caught sight of a small cottage. The curtains in the windows had been pulled shut, but she could see light through them and a wisp of smoke spilled out from the chimney into the starry sky.

Severus snorted as he led her up the small lane to the front door. "I do not recall ever saying it was."

The girl blinked at him in response and then bit down on her lip as she huddled behind him on the narrow front steps. A sudden bout of nerves had begun at the realization that she had no clue as to where she was. When he knocked on the door, she swallowed anxiously and gripped a handful of his cloak.

"He's here again!" a muffled voice called out before the wooden door was pulled open to reveal a smiling, middle-aged woman. "Professor! It's good to see you again. Are you here for our Christmas gift instructions?"

"Making a delivery, actually," he responded.

Hermione's eyes had widened at the familiar voice and her heart was pounding in her ears. Pushing out from beneath his left arm, tears began welling up in her eyes as she took in the sight of the greying brunette standing in the doorway.

"Mum!" her voice cracked slightly as she squeezed past Snape.


	45. Bakersfield Cottage

**A/N: Ah, finally! Just managed to sneak in one more update before the new year! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season even though I kept you in suspense. Finals week was chaos, culminating in my writing an entire 12-page research article in one night (only to have my thesis professor email the class the next morning extending the deadline by 3 days), but I am graduated! **

**So, after all of that, my brain was pretty much on life support which meant that the whole word-writey thingy was on hold. But I've managed to steal enough time away from the family (generally in the dead of night) to provide you with hopefully just enough of a hit to tide you over until I can start writing again after my advisory exams on Friday. And because my mother does not believe in wireless internet, and I somehow managed not to bring any of my twelve jump drives, I have had to get rather creative with the Internet-ing. I am seriously sitting halfway in the closet of my brother's basement bedroom with an ethernet cable suspended over the wall of his closet, listening to the rat-a-tat-tat of his videogame while trying to discourage my inquisitive black cat, Briscoe, from yanking the cord out of my laptop or drinking my tea. Thankfully there's a lady bug and a half-demolished (from one of her earlier visits) paper bag to hold her attention at the moment.  
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**This is how much I love you all. Merry (belated) Christmas to everyone, and a happy New Year!  
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* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 45**

"Oh, my baby!" Jean Granger exclaimed, throwing her arms around the girl as she crashed into her. Tears formed in her eyes as she stepped back slightly to peer into her daughter's face. Cupping the girl's cheek with one hand, she tucked a strand of the girl's hair behind her ear with the other. "My darling! I cannot believe you're here!"

"I've missed you so much," Hermione sniffled, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her gloved hand.

"Oh, baby, I've missed _you_," the woman responded, pulling her into another crushing embrace. "And your father has, too. I cannot even begin to fathom how much he's missed you, what with suffering through my constant worrying."

As the girl tearfully laughed into her mother's neck, the woman stepped them backwards across the threshold of the cottage and shouted over her shoulder. "Sam! Samuel, come quick!"

A few seconds later, the wooden door at the other end of the small sitting room creaked open to reveal a middle-aged man with a dish towel in his hand. "What? What is it?"

Smiling, the witch wrenched out of her mother's grasp. "Dad!"

"Hermione?" he murmured in disbelief. When she rushed towards him, he held out his arms and caught her about the waist. A joyous grin dominated his face as he gently swung her around in a circle. "My little pumpkin bear is home!"

Overcome with emotion, Hermione was unable to do anything but cry into his chest as he rocked her. After a minute or two, he chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her head. He then patted her on the shoulder and pulled away from her. "I think you better go fetch your mum. I don't think the professor can breathe."

"What?" she whispered, spinning around to see that her mother had been unable to keep her gratitude in check. The girl covered her mouth with her hand as she witnessed the look of sheer discomfort on Snape's face as the shorter woman had wrapped her arms around his neck. Giggling softly, she hurried toward them and did what she could to release the strangle-hold her mother had on the wizard.

"Mum. Mum, let go," she stated quietly, pulling on the woman's elbow. "Professor Snape hasn't even made it inside yet."

"Oh, oh! I'm so sorry!" Jean stammered, slowly releasing him and stepping out of the doorway. "Please, please come in."

Hermione bit her lip in amusement as she watched Severus uncomfortably eye her weeping mother as he strode past them and propped his broom and her bag against the wall. She then patted her mother's arm and grabbed hold of her hand as she waited for the woman to close the door and get control of her emotions.

With a smirk, Samuel Granger stepped forward and extended his hand to the taller man. As they shook hands, he used his head to gesture to his wife. "Sorry about that, Professor. She doesn't always use her words."

Severus snorted and allowed his gaze to settle on Hermione. "I suppose I should have expected that."

The girl locked eyes with him for a second before sheepishly ducking her head. She stared at the wooden floor for a moment and then glanced about the room. The furniture was somewhat worn and looked to be at least a few decades old, save for the sizeable red velvet Chesterfield sofa that had to be considerably older than that. A cheery little fire was crackling in the small, stone fireplace, and there were a few split logs stacked beside it. Beyond the fireplace was a small writing desk built into a wall of cherry wood shelves that were half-filled with her parents' book collection and framed family photographs. In the corner between what she assumed was the kitchen door and the descending wooden staircase was a card table covered in puzzle pieces, and across from the base of the stairs sat her grandmother's rocking chair with a stack of folded quilts piled on the seat.

As she surveyed her surroundings, she was all but oblivious to the verbal exchange between Severus and her parents. She was only pulled back to the discussion when her mother tugged on her hand and pointed her toward the antique sofa.

"Are you hungry?" Jean asked, glancing between the two newcomers. "I was just about to set soup on the stove, but I can throw something more together if you want."

Hermione shook her head and Snape cleared his throat as he took a seat in one of the two armchairs. "Soup would be fine."

The woman nodded and made a move in the direction of the kitchen only to have her husband hold up his hand.

"I'll get it," he smiled, steering her around the edge of the sofa. "You stay here with Hermione."

Jean let out a hesitant breath as she watched him leave but smiled as she faced her daughter. "Well, take your coat off if you're staying. You _are_ staying, correct?"

"I think so," the witch responded, glancing at Snape for confirmation.

The man rolled his eyes and unfastened his cloak. "I did not haul you across the country just for soup, Granger."

As she smirked and began removing her winter wear, her mother glanced over her shoulder to the professor. "How long do we get to keep her?"

Severus sucked in a breath and rubbed his chin pensively. "I should think a week would be manageable."

"A week!" The woman's eyes lit up and she spun her attention back to her equally astonished daughter. After gently touching the side of the girl's face, she quickly pulled her into another embrace. "I get you for an entire week!"

Snickering softly, Hermione patted her mother's back. "Mum, you can let go now."

"Just let me have a minute," came the response.

"You have a whole week!"

"Hush it," Jean mumbled, squeezing the girl tighter. "Thirty more seconds."

At the sound of an amused snort, the Gryffindor witch glanced in Snape's direction. Realizing that he was observing them, she blushed and dropped her gaze to the sofa.

"The resemblance is uncanny," Severus muttered, setting his elbow on the armrest of his chair.

"Hmm?" the greying brunette hummed, glancing back at him upon releasing her daughter. With a smile, she turned back to Hermione and grasped her by the arms. "Well, let's have a look at you. I think you've grown a bit – lucky you – but you're positively wasting away. Have you eaten _anything_ since I last fed you?"

The girl grimaced and tried to avoid both her mother's and Snape's critical gazes. She took in a deep breath and shrugged her shoulders. "I haven't been hungry."

"Not been hungry?" Jean frowned and tilted her daughter's chin so she could meet her eyes. "Young lady, you must have lost at least a stone. I know you've been stressed, love, but you cannot stop eating. You need to take better care of yourself. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione mumbled.

"Don't _'yes, mum'_ me," she replied, letting go of the girl's chin. "You know perfectly well that I suffered an eating disorder while in dental school and it took me years with your father's help to overcome it. I don't want to see that happen to you."

"I know," the witch sighed, wincing as she felt the weight of Severus's eyes upon her. "But you really don't have to worry about that, I promise."

Her mother smiled and patted her cheek. "Nevertheless, you're getting a sandwich with your soup. There's some leftover roast beef from last night's supper. Come along into the kitchen and I'll fix one for you. Professor, you're welcome to join us. Samuel shouldn't be much longer with the stew."

Hermione could hear the wizard rise from his chair and fall into step behind her as she followed her mother into the other room. She paused a moment to glance about the small kitchen and dining nook before Jean ushered her into one of the four chairs at the wooden table. As she watched her parents move about the space, pulling dishes from the overhead cabinets and food from the old stove and refrigerator, she was grateful that while Snape had chosen the seat across from her, he had opted to look out the window instead.

She was also grateful several minutes later when her mother set a plated sandwich in front of him as well as a bowl of soup. She had not wanted to be the only one eating more than the rest, and she was relatively sure that he had skipped lunch since she had not seen him anywhere near the Great Hall over the noon hour.

The witch was in the process of picking up her spoon when she caught sight of her parents bowing their heads. With her mouth open in surprise, she dropped the instrument to the table with a small clatter and then quickly folded her hands in mimicry of them. As her father softly began offering his thanks to the Lord, she surreptitiously glanced between him and her mother. After stumbling over the chorused 'Amen,' she dropped her hands to her lap and stared at the man beside her in disbelief.

"Sweetheart, eat," Jean instructed.

Hermione immediately swung her wide-eyed gaze in her direction. "When did you ever convince Dad to say grace?"

The woman chuckled softly and shared a glance with her husband briefly. "He suggested it actually."

"I can't believe _that_!" she cried, shifting her eyes to her father. "You've never said it unless we were at Granmum's and she threatened to get out her cane!"

"He even goes to Sunday services with me," Mrs. Granger added, pointing her spoon. "There's a lovely little stone chapel in the village."

"What?" the girl stammered.

Samuel shrugged and blew on a spoonful of soup. "I figured it couldn't hurt to ask for whatever type of protection I can grant you. If that means letting your mother drag my sorry bum into church regularly, then so be it."

With a shy smile, the witch flicked her gaze to the man quietly eating across from her and then to each of her parents once more before finally tucking in on her supper. As she ate, she was aware of her parents making small talk with the professor, but again she was not truly sure of what was being said. Instead, she was too preoccupied by the strange reality of sitting between the two people who were the most important to her, seeing firsthand that they were alive and well. Along with the warmness of the soup spreading along her digestive system, there was warmth in her heart at knowing that this was the best possible Christmas gift anyone could have given her, and the heat quickly spread to her cheeks when she momentarily met the eyes of the man responsible for it all.

Unbidden, a smile exploded upon her face and she dropped her eyes to her nearly empty bowl of soup. For the rest of the meal, she kept her attention focused only on her parents for fear that she would be unable to control her facial expressions. Whatever it was that Snape had explained to her parents regarding her situation, it was extremely unlikely that he had included the little tidbit about required sexual relations, and she did not wish to broach the subject with them…ever. And with the thoughts that were currently swirling about in her head, it would not do well to tempt fate, for both of her parents were rather perceptive and prone to interrogations.

"Well, I think that since you're home for Christmas, we might as well do something traditional for the holiday," Samuel stated, setting down his napkin. "There's a small line of evergreens just past the cottage that I've had my eye on, and –"

When a loud sigh interrupted him, the man glanced across the table to his wife, who shook her head in amusement. "Any excuse for him to play lumberjack these days."

"A man's gotta have a hobby, doesn't he?"

Jean rolled her eyes and squeezed her daughter's hand as she looked toward their dark-haired visitor. "It's contingent upon what you have to say about it, however, Professor. They are _your_ trees after all."

The man in question leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he avoided Hermione's surprised gaze. Clearing his throat, he nodded shortly. "You may do with them as you wish."

The witch opened her mouth to ask a question, but was cut off by her father's excited tone. "Excellent. Then I'll wash up the dishes, and when Hermione's finished eating, the three of us can go and find a decent tree."

"Unless you would like to join us, Professor," his wife added with a smile. When the man politely refused, she nodded and glanced at her daughter's plate. "Three more bites, dear."

"Mum," Hermione sighed, grimacing in embarrassment as she picked up the remainder of her sandwich.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Darling, are you coming?" Jean asked, adjusting her scarf as she turned about in the mudroom that lay just beyond the kitchen oven. Her husband stood just past her with one hand on the doorknob of the back door.

Hermione bit her lip, realizing that she had paused halfway through putting on her coat as she debated herself within her head. Letting out a small breath, she nodded and finished buttoning her coat. A second later, as she slipped on one of her gloves, she made up her mind regarding the matter and immediately stepped back into the kitchen, shouting over her shoulder. "I'll be back in just a second, Mum. I think I dropped one of my gloves in the sitting room."

Rushing past the stove and rack of drying dishes, she slowed only upon crossing the threshold into the living room. Upon witnessing Severus casually glancing about the feet of the furniture, she knew that he was silently scanning for her missing article of winter clothing. With a soft giggle, she tossed a glance over her shoulder to ascertain that her parents were still waiting for her at the back door.

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment as she gathered her courage. Blowing out a deep breath, she then strode purposefully to the middle of the room and paused momentarily until he swung his head in her direction.

"Granger, your glove is not –"

The rest of his statement died away as the young witch stood upon her tiptoes, slid her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled his head closer to hers. Before he could say anything further, she pressed her lips against his and let her eyes flutter closed. At hearing his sharp intake of breath, she pulled her lips back from him and smiled up at him.

"Thank you," she whispered, letting her hands slide down his chest before she rocked back on her heels and turned for the door. A faint blush graced her cheeks as she cleared her throat and slipped her hand in her pocket.

A stunned Severus Snape stared after her, wide-eyed, as she pulled out her second glove and disappeared from sight.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Sighing gently, Severus ran a hand through his hair and then pinched the bridge of his nose as he peered out the front window onto the stillness of the yard. The light snowfall of earlier had intensified somewhat, giving the night sky a hazy appearance, and reducing the evidence of their trek from the woods to mere indents in the snow.

Sensing that all was as it should be, the wizard pulled the curtains snugly shut once more and moved onto the front door. Upon checking that it was securely bolted, he strode through the darkened sitting room and kitchen to the mudroom where he tested the security of the back door. Stepping into the bathroom he had installed himself, he glanced through the small window into the back of the property before pulling the curtains shut.

With a long exhale, the man checked the few remaining windows in the kitchen and sitting room, and then cautiously approached the staircase. He took great care in avoiding the spots prone to creaking as he mounted the stairs to the second floor. Seeing that the door to the storage closet was left open, he slowly and silently closed it and then peered briefly into the open doorway to the small bedroom.

Snape narrowed his eyes and found himself frowning at the emptiness of the room. The single brass bed housed no sleeping form, and the bedclothes were neatly arranged atop the mattress. Curiosity peaked, the man steered himself to the other end of the short hallway where the door to the main bedroom stood slightly ajar.

Holding his breath, he nudged the door open slightly further with his foot. At the sight before him, he relaxed noticeably and let out a small sigh. Three bodies were huddled close together beneath the stack of quilts atop the double bed. On the side nearest him, Hermione lay tucked in her mother's embrace, while her father occupied the side nearest the window with his right arm draped protectively across his wife and child.

For nearly five minutes, the professor stood rooted to that spot, watching the three Grangers cling to each other in undisturbed slumber. When he realized how long he had been there, he swallowed apprehensively and spun back to the staircase. Stealthily, he crept back to the main floor and peered out the front window once more. When he was satisfied that everything was still secure, he ambled over to the Chesterfield sofa and sank into its velvet cushions.

Wiping his face in fatigue, he took in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly at the sweet scent of pine that invaded his nostrils. As he rubbed the back of his neck, he let his gaze drift to the squatty tree propped up a few yards away. The dark boughs were punctuated sparsely with a number of ancient glass ornaments that twinkled in the low light of the fireplace. Compared to the frosted wonders of Hogwarts, this tree looked absolute rubbish, but it was enough to be declared perfect by Hermione and her parents.

Noticing that one of the ornaments was hanging crooked upon its bough, Severus frowned and pushed off of the couch. Plucking the metal hook from the evergreen finger, he held the delicate glass ball in his hand for a moment as he observed it. On the face of the silver bulb was daintily painted a winter scene that seemed eerily reminiscent of the view of the cottage they had had when he and Hermione had arrived several hours prior. Turning it over in his palm, he squinted in the low light to read what words had been painted.

**_Bakersfield Cottage, December 1919  
>Helen Elizabeth Bakersfield, 19<em>**

The man let out a faint grunt and carefully placed the hook upon a different bough so that it was able to dangle unobstructed. With one last glance to the ornament that his grandmother had apparently painted five years before dying in childbirth, he returned to and collapsed upon the sofa.

When Jean Granger had mentioned seeing the box of Christmas decorations in the storage closet, he had not been at all surprised. He had seen it himself fifteen years prior when he had first started clearing through the neglected residence. Upon noticing that it was filled with ornaments, he had immediately closed the box up again and shoved it to the back of the closet. He had not known then – or perhaps he had not actually cared – that the box held personal memories of his grandmother's family. They had long been gone anyway, so he had not bothered to investigate them further.

Even at present, he was uncertain as to what the majority of the decorations actually were. He knew from the exclamations of Hermione and her mother as they dug through the box that a number of them had been hand-painted by Helen Bakersfield through her teenaged years – as had the landscapes that were hanging upon the walls of the two bedrooms – but he had not chosen to inspect them any closer. Instead, he had sat awkwardly in one of the armchairs, silently watching as the small family worked together to bring the homely tree to life.

It had been strange for him to witness as never before had he seen anyone decorate a tree by hand. In years past, he had been pushed into assisting Flitwick with decorating the Great Hall, but it had all been done with charms. He had never really considered how Muggles would accomplish the task. There had never been a tree in his home that he could recall. Perhaps there had been one in the few weeks leading up to his birth, but if it were so, he was sure that it had been left entirely up to Eileen, who had been approximately twenty-seven weeks pregnant at the time, to decorate it.

Christmas in his household was hardly anything special in the traditional sense of the holiday. Growing up, he had never understood why anyone would be so excited over it. He vaguely remembered receiving an iced biscuit or two from his mother when he could not yet see over the kitchen counter. The last few years before he attended primary school, though, she would sit him at the kitchen table with his biscuit, motion him to keep silent, and then she would stand next to the kitchen door, patiently peeking out into the living room every so often.

When Tobias had finally taken to snoring on the davenport, the witch would beckon her son to her side. With absolute caution and silence, she had grabbed hold of her boy's hand and led him quickly up the stairs, making sure to lift him over the squeaky fourth step. She would hustle the young boy into his tiny bedroom – which he was quite certain was originally a sizeable closet – and then gesture to Severus to stand behind her as she swished her wand about. It was not until much later that he understood she had been magically securing his door – not only against unwanted intrusion, but to warn her if any drunk husbands were to stumble up the stairs.

_"You will speak of this to no one. Is that understood?"_

That was the only phrase to leave her mouth the first time they had stood together in the cramped, little bedroom. When he nodded to her, she stood on the bed, wincing slightly at the sound of the springs, and then reached up to the ceiling where the latch to the attic was located. After pulling down the small step ladder, she grabbed hold of her son about his waist and lifted him into the cold, dark expanse above them. She had then hoisted herself into the small attic and began crawling to the farthest corner of the house.

There, amidst the cobwebs, dust, and frosty boards, sat her school trunk. And it was there that Eileen would spend a number of hours telling her son about the Wizarding World, the wonders of Hogwarts, and the extraordinariness of his special gift. They were the same stories that he would later tell Lily when they would lie on their backs in the grass of the park and stare up at the clouds.

The stories were never meant to leave the attic, but he had trusted Lily with them. Since his mother's stories ended by the time he had turned six – as had the iced biscuits – Severus had just wanted to share his secrets with someone. His mother had instructed him never to talk to Muggles about it, and he never did for fear that they would treat him as his father did. His clothes, financial standing, and poor genetics had already made him an outcast, and so he was determined to avoid further targeting.

And then he had seen Lily perform magic in the park, and he had known that he would not be alone any longer. He had given her all of his insight into the magical realm, and she had, in exchange, made it explicitly clear how lacking his own existence was. Never was it more clear to him than during the yuletide. She had always invited him into her family's home and had excitedly shown him the tree she had helped decorate and the shiny presents she had helped wrap. One of which had always bore his name. It was never anything more than a bag of sweets, but he had always felt miserable about not having anything more than newsprint to wrap her mediocre gift. Of course, the only one who had ever pointed it out had been that horse-faced sister of hers.

Snape blew out a deep breath and shook his head as he glanced at the tree once more. The way Lily had always spoken of it, the tree-decorating had always seemed to him like some private family ceremony, and in watching the Grangers methodically complete the task, it had certainly appeared to be so. He had felt out of place, as though he were intruding upon their family time. The Christmas holiday was a time for family, and he had none.

Swinging his gaze from the tree to the bookshelves, he ran a hand through his hair. The cottage was legally his – a shocking discovery following his father's death – but everything was theirs now. He was a guest in his own home, but oddly enough, he found that he did not mind all that much. As long as Hermione was safe and happy – and eating – he could live with the consequences to his person.

With that in mind – and the memory of the girl kissing him deeply suppressed within his conscience – the wizard swung his long legs onto the sofa and laid his head against one of the blankets he had bunched up into a makeshift pillow.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The sound of a tea kettle whistling yanked Severus suddenly from his slumber. Grimacing at the stiffness in his back, he blinked several times to clear the fog from his mind before he attempted sitting. With a yawn, he wiped his eyes with the palm of his hand and then looked down in surprise at the quilt that had been draped over his body.

No light yet spilled in the windows, but a glance at the antique clock clicking from its place amongst the books informed him that it would not be long. Frowning slightly, the man rose from the sofa, haphazardly folded up the blanket, and then made his way toward the kitchen door.

"Oh, good morning, Professor," Samuel said quietly from his seat at the table. "I apologize for waking you."

"No, erm, it's alright," the wizard cleared his throat, glancing about the otherwise empty kitchen in mild surprise. "I am quite often awake at this hour."

"Yes, I would imagine teaching would require a number of early mornings," the older man nodded, rising from his chair. "Can I get you a cup of tea? I was about to start on breakfast anyway."

Severus raised one eyebrow, but gave a nod of assent as he stepped over to the table.

"Oh, and in case you were wondering," Sam stated over his shoulder as he pulled a teacup down from the cupboard, "I wasn't the one who tucked you in. That was Jean when she came down to use the loo about an hour ago. She's snuck back in bed to watch Hermione sleep for now, though I suspect it's only a matter of minutes before the urge to chat becomes unbearable."

The Potions Master quirked his lips at the statement and offered a polite word of gratitude when a steaming cup of Earl Grey was set in front of him. He then watched in curiosity as the other man moved about the small kitchen, pulling pans and dishes out of the cupboards and containers from the small refrigerator. He took a long sip of tea and leaned back in his chair. "Do you cook often?"

Mr. Granger briefly looked up from the mixing bowl and shrugged. "Jean usually does the cooking, but I like being able to grant her a reprieve every now and then. Mostly I'm good at re-heating things. Breakfast I can do, though."

"I see." As the other man focused all of his attention on his food preparations, Snape periodically sipped his tea as he watched him with interest. It was foreign to him – a husband volunteering to work over a stove so his wife could do something more preferable. There was absolutely nothing that he found wrong with the idea; he had just never seen it. Nor had he ever thought about it before.

He had cooked for himself, though, whenever he was not living in the Hogwarts castle – many times on the very stove in the room – and he had attempted helping his mother when he was young, until his father had started shouting about his son becoming a fairy on top of a wizard.

The only times his father stepped foot into the kitchen in the house on Spinner's End was when he was still sober enough to sit at the dinner table or whenever he felt the need to further terrorize his wife. The idea of him stirring a pot of stew while Eileen put her feet up was laughable.

But Tobias Snape and Samuel Granger were two very different men. It did not even take two seconds to discern that fact. The late Mr. Snape had never once in his life lovingly embraced his wife or child, nor would he have ever chucked away his pride long enough to listen to another man instruct him on the best method for protecting his family. Had the young Severus been in a situation even remotely similar to the one in which Hermione was, Tobias would have muttered a cold 'Good riddance,' slammed the door in the professor's face, and shut he and Eileen up in the house, condemning them both to a drawn out death.

And there were no 'Pumpkin Bear's or 'Sweetheart's or 'Darling's ever uttered in the Snape household. The pet names his father _did_ have for him should never be repeated in polite company, and certainly would never leave Severus's mouth in reference to a child.

_Especially not towards my own._

The wizard choked slightly on his tea as the thought drifted through his mind. Setting the cup on the table, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and then closed his eyes.

_Where the bloody hell did that come from_? He frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was uncomfortable enough to exchange civilities with the Grangers when he knew perfectly well what he had done – and would continue to do – to their only daughter. He did not need to picture himself impregnating her on top of it all.

He had never really considered being a father when he was young and after teaching for a number of years had outright ruled it out. Ever since the beginning of November when he had had the nightmare in which he had held his infant in his arms, however, he could not forget the feelings it had induced within him.

And when Filius and Pomona had teased him about having his own little urchins underfoot, he could not keep the idea out of his head. It had been why he stormed away from the table. He could not sit there with Hermione in direct line of sight – with the knowledge that any of his children would be hers – and not be haunted by the weeping chocolate eyes of his imagined son.

Eyes that were remarkably similar to the ones currently staring at him over a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

"Headache, Professor?" Samuel asked, pouring pancake batter into a frying pan.

The wizard sighed and wiped his hand across his face. "It appears rather chronic."

When the older man grunted in response, Severus willed away his most recent thoughts and folded his arms. A few minutes later, he cleared his throat and focused on a topic that was easier to consider. "How are the finances holding?"

Mr. Granger shrugged lightly as he removed a cake from the griddle and set it in a pan in the oven to keep warm. "We're making due, cutting expenses wherever we can."

"The original sum I gave you?"

"Is approximately sixty percent gone," he sighed as he began cracking eggshells. "But I think we can make the rest stretch a bit longer. Since you're taking care of the utilities, it's only the food, supplies, and petrol that we have to purchase regularly. The repairs to the car took quite a bit of it before as did that small leak in the roof I mentioned to you, but it hopefully should all be settled now."

Snape frowned and scratched his forehead. "I have another two thousand pounds to leave with you now, but if you believe that you will require more before long, I can deliver it upon my return next week."

"Your return next week?" Jean Granger repeated as she held open the kitchen door for her daughter. "You're leaving, Professor?"

"There are things that require my attention elsewhere," he responded, shifting his eyes to avoid Hermione's suddenly concerned expression. "I shall need to return before tomorrow. Christmas Eve tends to be a day filled with obligations."

"He's offering to bring us more money when he comes to collect Hermione," Sam explained quietly to his wife, who had crept up beside him to examine his progress.

The woman's eyes snapped up to his, and then she spun to face the table. "No. Please. You've spent entirely too much on us already! I cannot in good conscience accept more from you…not when we have no ability to pay you back. There was so much in our accounts! If only we could have accessed it before –"

"Hush," her husband whispered, wrapping an arm about her chest and kissing her temple. "Stop thinking about that."

"But it was everything we had," she protested. "We could be supporting ourselves on it for years, Samuel. And now that we're legally dead, it should have gone to Hermione, not my stupid sister and her parasitic husband."

"Jean, stop it," he stated more forcefully. "It was not everything –"

"That isn't what I meant!" she hissed. "It's just, what was the bloody point of working so hard to make the money if our daughter will never see to inherit it?"

"I know." He held up his hands in an effort to calm her down. "But we've discussed this before. We will do what we can to repay him, but until we are able to do so, we cannot fret over it, right? Believe me, darling, it hurts my ego ten times more than it does yours, but we cannot live on pride."

"You're right," she sighed a moment later, leaning her head against his chest. "But we _will_ repay him?"

"Of course."

"With interest?" she asked, pulling her head back to view his face. When he nodded, she smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "You've burned the eggs."

"Damn."

As her parents dealt with the blackened pan, Hermione turned to look at the man sitting silently at the table. Her gaze was demanding as she rubbed her arm. "You're paying for all of this?"

Severus sighed and let his eyes drift closed. When he offered no verbal response, the girl pulled out the chair next to him and continued staring at him. "The Order isn't helping? Dumbledore isn't helping?"

"No," he snapped, folding his hands onto the table, opting to look to the wall.

"But why –"

"Because if Dumbledore or the Order were footing any portion of the bill, he would demand to know their location," he hissed beneath his breath.

"You really don't trust him that much?" she whispered. "You think he would –"

"I don't _think_ he would do anything," he interrupted. "However, he had his chance to prove himself incapable at keeping people safe. I am not allowing him another one."

"You mean with Lil –erm, Harry, don't you?"

Snape's eyes snapped to her panicked face instantaneously, but he was prevented from responding to her by the sudden presence of her mother at the table.

"I wish you would let us contribute to some of our own expenses," Jean mumbled as she set the platter of pancakes down in the center of the table. "I realize that it's quite impossible to earn a decent living whilst being declared dead, but we could do _something_ at least. I mean the nice old gentleman who runs the little village bookshop is looking for some help with the store, and I know there are a few ladies at the church who need some work done around their houses. It wouldn't be much, but it would be enough to cover the groceries."

"Mum," Hermione cautioned.

"What?" she shrugged, glancing up at her husband as he sat down with a stack of plates and cutlery briefly before returning her eyes to her daughter. "We aren't going to do anything without his approval. Your father and I just don't feel right about sitting here twiddling our thumbs while you're out doing Lord only knows what."

"But –"

"If that is what you wish to do," Severus interrupted, accepting a plate from Mr. Granger, "I do not see an issue with that, as long as you follow the guidelines we discussed previously."

"Wonderful!" the woman smiled, clasping her hands. "Thank you."

"No, _not_ wonderful!" Hermione countered, slamming her fork down on the table. She ignored her parents' shocked expressions and turned to her professor. "They're supposed to be _hiding_ and you're allowing them to wander about in the village unprotected?"

The wizard sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Granger, they will be fine."

"How do you know?" she demanded, snatching her hand away from her mother's comforting grasp. "How do you _know_ that they'll be fine? I _know_ there aren't any wards on the house because I didn't feel any when we walked here. They go into the village for supplies and _church_? How is _that_ hiding? You said that _you_ were the only one that knew where they were, but clearly the ladies at the church and the man in the bookshop know. How the hell are you protecting them?"

"Hermione, _that_ is enough!" her father shouted.

Jean sighed and grabbed hold of her daughter's arm. "Sweetheart, I know that you're worried about us, but we are _fine_. We haven't exactly been running around the village telling everyone our real names and our entire life history. No one knows that we're the Grangers from Oxford or that we were dentists or even that we have a daughter. We've been careful about everything we've done or said around anyone."

"Think about it logically," Sam instructed. "You can't expect him to come all the way here every time we run out of milk, can you? And if we just go into the village for food and speak to no one, I think that would set the tongues wagging a bit more."

"But what about the wards?" she whispered with a slight squeak.

Severus grimaced at her pleading gaze and flexed his hands before speaking. "Granger, if any of the Dark Lord's followers were to suspect that your parents are indeed still alive, where might they think to look?"

Hermione frowned as she attempted to follow his line of thought. "With the Order?"

He nodded, leaning back in his chair. "And how might _they_ have protected your parents?"

"Magically," she muttered beneath her breath.

"Indeed." He eyed the two elder Grangers for a moment before glancing at the silent girl beside him. "In your research into the trace on underaged wizardry, did you happen to read up on the other happenings of the Department of Magical Tracings?"

At her nod, he snorted softly. "Of course you did, which means that you are now aware that they monitor the country for unusual levels of active magic. The type of warding required to safe-guard anyone demands an excessive amount of magical energy, which is why Order safehouses and Death Eater meetings alike are located within or near large wizarding populations. With the Dark Lord now infiltrating the Ministry, there is no chance that an occurrence not attributed to his own actions would go unnoticed and uninvestigated."

The witch wiped a stray tear from her eye and blinked the rest of them away as she stared at the table. "So you're saying that there isn't any way to actually protect them."

Snape sighed and rested his elbows on the table. "There isn't a wizarding village anywhere near here, which is why I kept this place. In fact, the Weasleys are the closest wizarding family and they're a two hour broom ride away. This property can only be linked to my name if one were to go digging through Muggle property records, because I made damn sure fifteen years ago that the Ministry of Magic never caught wind of it. I can guarantee that there is not another Death Eater who would think to look for people the Muggle way, nor would most of the Order."

"You're hiding them in plain sight," she stammered in disbelief. "Just hoping to fly them under the radar?"

"Five points to Gryffindor," he sneered. "And now you know why I chose to portkey into the vicinity of Ottery St. Catchpole – because even though the portkey itself was unregistered, it does not mean the arrival goes undetected. Brooms, on the other hand, are virtually untraceable. That's why the Order used them when they moved Potter last year. The Ministry could not be trusted then, and they cannot be trusted now.

"And that is why, while you are here, there will be no magic used. Is that understood?"

Hermione nodded quietly and briefly flicked a glance into his eyes. "I'm sorry that I shouted at you, sir. It's just that…I just can't lose them again."

"Oh, baby girl," Jean cooed, slipping off of her chair and kneeling in front of her daughter. With a sad smile, she brushed the girl's hair behind her ear and wiped away a few tears that fell. "We're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

The woman pressed her forehead against her daughter's for a handful of seconds before placing a kiss at her temple and leaning back on her haunches. "It's been four months, and your father and I are both still here. I would say that it's been working rather well, wouldn't you?"

The young witch sniffled through a nod and glanced in embarrassment towards Severus, who was feigning disinterest as he stared at the table top.

"Darling, look at me," Jean stated softly, waiting until the girl had done so to continue speaking. "If I for one moment thought venturing into the village would put you or your father at risk, I would gladly glue myself to the sofa out there. I just don't wish to bankrupt your professor – especially not when he's promised to keep you safe."

"And besides," she muttered, lifting herself back into her chair, "if your father and I are to remain cooped up in here for who knows how long with nothing to do, one of us is bound to strangle the other. And that wouldn't be very good at all, now would it?"

"No," Hermione snorted, wiping the last evidence of her tears away.

Samuel tossed his daughter a reassuring smile and then glanced good-naturedly at the food in front of him. "Well, the pancakes _were_ warm."

"Hush it, darling," Jean smirked at her husband, while Hermione caught Snape's eyes and mouthed a silent apology.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Are you absolutely certain that you have to go?"

Severus sighed and glanced over his shoulder at the young witch who was holding his cloak. He nodded slowly and then held his hand out for the article of clothing.

"But there's hardly anyone left at Hogwarts," she mumbled, handing it to him. "Can't they manage without you?"

"I do not doubt that they can manage," he answered as he shrugged on the cloak. "The Dark Lord, on the other hand, generally cannot."

Hermione shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her waist. "But you were _just_ summoned!"

"I've told you before, Granger, the Dark Lord keeps his own timetable. And Christmas Eve provides him with all the good cheer and togetherness that he likes to ruin."

The girl swallowed nervously and glanced behind her as her parents emerged from the kitchen. "But what if…what if something happens to you?"

"I can assure you that I will be fine," he muttered as he fastened the cloak.

"And if something happens _here_ while you're gone?"

Snape let out an impatient breath and pushed past her as he strode over toward the shelves nearest the fireplace. He picked up a book that had been lying upon its side and held it up for the girl to see. "This is a portkey – and, _no_, it is not _legal_ – but it is to be used in the event of an emergency. Your parents have been instructed as to its use, and should the need arise, it will transport you to my home in Cokeworth, which is warded against anyone possessing a magical signature who is not you, Minerva, or myself."

"It won't activate by accident?" she asked, watching him plop it none too gently back upon the shelf.

"No," he responded, digging in the large pocket of his cloak. "It requires a password."

"Which is?" she pressed, trailing behind him as he stepped toward her parents who were now standing at the base of the stairs.

"It's the name of your cat, darling," Jean answered quietly, wrapping her arm around the girl's shoulders. "We have to be touching the book, say his name, and then hope we don't lose our lunch as we travel more than two hundred miles in two seconds."

Hermione glanced at her smiling face and then back at Snape, who was currently handing a fat manila envelope to her father. He then slipped another bag out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"Remember, Granger," he cautioned, fixing her with a stare. "No magic unless you absolutely have to and then only enough to make it to the portkey. If you believe yourself to be in danger at my residence, you may attempt to apparate your parents to our usual location in the Forbidden Forest. If you are not confident enough to do that, summon Dobby. I've given him instructions to aid you wherever you may be. Do not waste the time trying to contact me unless you know that you have enough time and security to do so. If I find it necessary, _I_ will contact you. Do you comprehend everything I have just said?"

She nodded and then watched as he grabbed hold of his broom and reached for the door.

"I plan to return by midday on the first," he stated matter-of-factly, facing the two elder Grangers. "She is not to leave the property."

"We understand," Sam replied. "Thank you again, Professor."

As Severus made to leave, Hermione tugged out of her mother's grasp and shouted, "Wait!"

He turned with one eyebrow raised quizzically, and she threw her arms about him without warning. When he shrugged out of her embrace a few seconds later, she offered him a shy word of gratitude and then returned to her mother's side.

"Merry Christmas, Professor," Jean called brightly as the man headed silently out into the freshly fallen snow.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Several hours later, Hermione stood in her warmest pair of pajamas, staring out the frost-covered window of the second bedroom. She glanced down at the satchel Snape had given her, which was filled with a few Headache Relief potions, a small tin of the orange salve that calmed the burning should it be accidently set off, a flask of the Essence of Dittany, three doses of Blood-Replenishing Potion, and half a dozen vials of her milder sleeping draught.

It was the latter item that she was currently debating with herself about using. She wished to be aware enough while sleeping to respond to any danger that could possibly arise during the night, but at the same time, she did not wish to alert her parents to the content and frequency of her nightmares. As she had experienced with Ginny and Mathina earlier that month, she could not trust herself to keep from screaming in her sleep.

With a sigh, she began untying the drawstring. When she heard a knock on the door, however, she quickly stuffed the bag in the nightstand drawer and returned to the window.

"I had a feeling you weren't asleep yet," Jean smiled as she opened the door and stepped into the room. "Your father doesn't quite believe me, but I can tell when you're still up. It doesn't matter if you're next door or across the country."

Her daughter smiled as she watched the woman turn down the bed covers and then gesture for her to climb under them.

"It's time for bed, young lady," she smirked. "Your father's been snoring for the past hour or so. If I have any hope of joining him in dreamland, you need to go to bed."

Hermione snickered and did as she was told.

"You've used the loo, yes?"

"Yes, mum," she rolled her eyes, but when the woman moved to turn out the light, she bit her lip. "Would you stay with me for a few minutes?"

The greying brunette nodded and perched on the edge of the bed. "Is something the matter?"

"I just miss you."

"Well, if you really wanted, I could shove your father over and you could sleep in our bed again."

The witch hesitated momentarily, but then shook her head. She had been fortunate enough to make it through one night without nightmares; she was not sure she could go for two. "I'm okay in here."

"If you're sure," her mother responded, leaning her back against the brass rails of the headboard. "Is there something else troubling you?"

Hermione sighed softly and then pulled herself into a seated position. "I feel terrible about shouting at Se—Professor Snape this morning. He's done everything he possibly can, and I basically implied that he hasn't done enough."

The woman eyed her cautiously for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath and slipping her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Well, I think he understood. He didn't appear to be too upset by it."

"But he hardly ever appears upset about things with me anymore," she muttered. _Except when I ask about Lily. Oh God, I mentioned her!_

At seeing her wince, Jean frowned briefly, but stroked her daughter's arm gently. "I think that you are worrying entirely too much about everything. You take after me far too much for your own good."

"Maybe," the girl whispered, resting her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Now, how about you let me see that lovely ring of yours again?"

With a soft snort, Hermione slipped the sapphire ring from her right hand and held it out to her mother. "I really love it, Mum. I wear it all of the time because it makes me think of you and Dad."

"Oh, you're welcome, darling," Jean sniffled, blinking back tears that were forming in her eyes. She examined the piece of jewelry for a minute under the lamplight and then handed it back to her daughter. "Your professor made a brilliant choice, I think. It's far prettier than any of the ones I had looked at."

The witch glanced down at the object in surprise. "What do you mean? He told me that _you_ had placed an order for it."

"With him, perhaps," she answered. "But no, we personally never found one that was right for you. That one, though, is almost perfect."

Hermione could feel her bottom lip trembling as she slid the ring back on her finger. "I never knew that he picked it out."

"We gave him your ring size and as detailed specifications as we could when he asked, but when it came to the actual purchasing, he was on his own." The woman shook her head and sighed. "Another blow to the ego to know that he could find a better match in a few hours than we could in months of perusing jewelers' displays. We even tried online shopping with that new computer of your father's, but nothing we managed to find was good enough for our baby girl."

As hot tears began trickling down her cheeks, the girl wrapped her arms about her mother's waist and buried her face against her neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too, darling," Jean responded, returning the tearful embrace. They sat together silently for several minutes before she patted her daughter on the arm and slipped away from her. "Now it is quite late, and your father will be up early again. You know how excited the man gets about Christmas Eve, don't you? I don't expect it shall be any different this year."

The Gryffindor nodded and giggled quietly. Her expression sobered, however, upon remembering Snape's earlier description of Voldemort, but she willed that thought away as her mother set to tucking her more securely into the bed.

"Good night, sweetheart," she smiled before placing a kiss to the girl's forehead. "We can chat more tomorrow."

"Okay," Hermione whispered. After the woman had clicked off the lamp and pulled the door closed behind her, she waited more than a minute before leaning over to pull open the drawer of the bedside table. Quickly, she unstoppered one of the sleeping potions and tossed back half the vial.

Upon returning the flask to the drawer, she curled up under the blankets and stared appreciatively at her ring until her eyelids became too heavy to keep open.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

A few hundred miles away, Severus sat in his leather armchair with his feet propped up on the ottoman and half a tumbler of firewhiskey in his right hand. He had returned to the castle a few hours prior and, after plying Dumbledore with a number of cryptic answers and side-stepping a friendly interrogation from Minerva, he had retired to the solace of his own quarters to brood.

His desire to be alone, however, was in direct conflict with a ginger cat's desire to be loved.

With a sigh, the wizard set the glass down on the nearby end table and instead began scratching the beast behind his ears. Crookshanks was loudly purring his appreciation and, in return, began kneading the man's thighs.

"She kissed me," he muttered blandly. While the feline blinked at him knowingly, the wizard groaned and tossed back the remainder of his alcohol.

As thrilling as the idea was that a woman had kissed him of her own volition, a wary voice at the back of his conscience was cautioning him that it would not bode well for them in the coming weeks if he could not keep control of both his body and mind.

His original plan had been to allow Hermione a week with her parents, but after watching her blushing cheeks as she rushed back to her parents' side and catching each and every one of her dewy-eyed glances during the tree decorating, he had mentally completed a threat assessment of sorts. Keeping his distance from the girl seemed necessary to deter any progression of her daring gratitude or his inappropriate thoughts. As such, he had opted to extend her visit as long as it could possibly be without interfering with his schedule for brewing the next batch of Wolfsbane.

Grumbling beneath his breath, Severus poured himself another tumbler of firewhiskey and leaned back in his chair. He now had ten days to work on burying his growing attraction for the witch as deep within the confines of his mind as he could achieve.


	46. Christmas Celebrations

**A/N: Wow...over 2,000 reviews and over 1,000 alerts. That is awesome! Thank you so much! I look forward to reading more of your reviews - I'll consider them a slightly belated birthday present, and I will enjoy reading them as I cuddle up in my apartment tomorrow and avoid the 54-below temps outside.  
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**A bit of emotion and strategy appearing here, and I assure you there will be some heat in the next installment. A confrontation or two are in the works as well, though I am attempting to figure out exactly how they are going to align with everything else.  
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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 46**

"Severus!" Voldemort called from the head of the ballroom.

The wizard squared his jaw as he strode amongst the crowd of Death Eaters gathered at Malfoy Manor. He cast a withering glance at the giggle that spilled forth from Bellatrix LeStrange before clearing his expression upon reaching the front of the room. It did not escape his notice that those nearest him had casually formed a semi-circle perfect for viewing the show were the tyrant to be made unhappy.

"My Lord," he bowed respectfully.

Voldemort gave a bored sigh and leaned against the back of his chair. "I trust the matter has been seen to."

"It has, my Lord."

"The girl?"

"No longer at Hogwarts," he responded easily. "She has been sent where she belongs."

"And the doddering old fool?"

Snape allowed himself a smirk. "Sanctimoniously celebrating his helping cure the sudden bout of holiday loneliness incurred by one of his precious Gryffindors."

A devilish grin slid across the evil wizard's face, and he clapped his hands as he stood from the ornate chair. He clamped one frigid hand upon his spy's shoulder and exclaimed, "My loyal friend, I knew the task was not as impossible as you claimed it to be. Just required the right amount of encouragement, it appears."

At the chorus of laughter that erupted from the guests, Voldemort swung his arms wide and floated back to his chair. "Eat, drink, be merry – for the mayhem is yet to begin!"

The Potions Master watched out of the corner of his eye as the rest of the Death Eaters relaxed back into their earlier merriment. He waited patiently for a handful of seconds more before the Dark Lord swung his pointed red gaze to him.

"Severus, enjoy yourself, but you will not partake in this evening's field trip," he hissed. "You will return to clutch onto Dumbledore's robes before we commence."

"Yes, my Lord." The wizard dipped his head and slowly turned on his heel to join the rest of the gathering. He was in the midst of deciding just how long he was required to enjoy himself before he was allowed to leave when a drink was shoved into his hands.

"Severus, you look like shit."

Scowling, the man looked to the blonde wizard beside him. "Lucius, is that the celebrated tongue that has allowed you to woo so many of our esteemed Ministry officials?"

Malfoy snarled slightly under his breath and tossed back his drink.

"I take it from the fact we are gathered here today, that you've managed to whore yourself through the Auror's office and grease your way out of your surveillance decree," he muttered, glancing disdainfully at the rest of the night's attendees.

"And just look at all the good it's done me so far," he grimaced. "I think Azkaban would provide a cheerier holiday."

"My, my. Where _has_ that nauseating optimism of yours gone?"

Lucius glared at him for a moment before grabbing another tumbler of firewhiskey. "I thought I would warn you, Severus, that the bitch has her sights set on deposing you from the Dark Lord's right hand. _She's_ the one who had you summoned after she dragged it out of Draco that the mudblood wasn't on the train with Potter, and she's determined to ruin the success you're currently having."

With a raised eyebrow, the Slytherin Head carefully scanned the crowd and frowned when he failed to spot Bellatrix. After sipping from his glass, he glanced back at his former protector. "And just what is this warning going to cost me?"

The wealthy wizard remained silent for a moment as Rosier stumbled past with his arm draped around Alecto Carrow's waist. When they were out of earshot, he spoke quietly. "I require a favor of you."

"What sort of favor?" Snape inquired, setting his glass on the table beside him.

"I need you to keep an eye on Draco," came the whispered reply. "He's been charged with a task and may need assistance or protection that I cannot provide him."

The spy took in a slow breath and feigned disinterest. "And just what is this worthy task?"

"I cannot tell you."

Severus frowned and folded his arms. "Lucius, if you expect me to aid the boy, I would be better able to do so if I knew what the bloody hell it is I am to help him do."

"I know that," the man snapped bitterly. "If I knew what it was, I would tell you. But the Dark Lord has forbidden Draco from seeking my assistance. To my knowledge, he has not been forbidden from seeking your counsel. Narcissa wanted to consult you at the beginning of term, but the bitch has her under close watch."

The professor sighed in frustration. "And just where is Draco this evening?"

"Upstairs with his mother," Lucius replied quietly as he took another gulp from his drink. "He has not left his suite since Sunday night."

Snape's lip twitched in discomfort as he remembered groggily looking up from the floor to see the sheer terror etched in the boy's eyes as he watched Voldemort's preferred method of encouragement unfold.

"I would have asked you to take him with you now," the aristocrat added, dropping his voice even lower, "but his presence and participation have been demanded for tonight's festivities… in Diagon Alley and at the Bones residence."

The younger wizard immediately flicked his questioning eyes to the man's face. Lucius met his scrutinizing stare with a pointed gaze.

"If you care at all for my son, you will know what to do with that."

Severus cleared his throat and picked up his tumbler as he cautiously eyed the other attendees who all appeared wrapped up in their own conversations. "Can it be traced back to you?"

The blonde shook his head minutely. "Narcissa was informed by an elf who overheard a private conversation with the rat."

"I see," the spy mumbled, draining the remainder of his drink. "I will do what I can."

Lucius nodded with a forced smile. "It's all that I ask. Merry Christmas, Severus."

With a roll of his eyes, Snape sauntered inconspicuously toward the ballroom doors. When he pushed open the door and stepped into the main hall of the manor, he groaned loudly in disgust upon seeing Rosier with his hand up Alecto's skirt.

The man detached his mouth from the witch's breast and glanced back at him with a smirk. "Ten minutes, Snape, and then you can have a turn."

"I'd rather fuck a Blast-Ended Skrewt," the professor spat, ignoring Alecto's angered gasp as he turned on his heel. He only made it halfway to the front foyer, however, before he found himself pushed up against the wall.

"I'm not a Blast-Ended Skrewt," Bellatrix cooed. "But if it's the biting you're interested in, I'd be more than happy to oblige."

His eyes narrowed into a dark glare as he hissed, "I'd rather fuck Carrow."

"Oh _come_ now, Professor," she purred, batting her eyes as she flirtatiously ran her hands down his chest. "It must get awfully lonely at the castle with no one there to… satisfy your needs."

"We mustn't touch what isn't ours, Bella," he sneered, slapping her right hand away. When she squeezed him through his trousers with her left hand he forcibly threw her smaller frame away from him. "And _that_ certainly isn't yours."

"No wonder the mudblood screamed so loudly." The dark witch smirked as she eyed his crotch and then flicked her gaze to his face. She licked her lips slowly and leaned back against the wall in a seductive manner. "I could _scream_ for you, Severus."

"I'm certain that your sister would appreciate me taking my leave before I vomit on her carpets," he jeered, straightening his robes. "Now, why don't you take that disgusting desperation back to the Dark Lord, because clearly if you were any good at _servicing_ him, _you_ would be his most trusted advisor and you wouldn't be trying to _suck_ up to me."

The woman's eyes widened dangerously and she was visibly trembling with rage. "Fuck you, Snape!"

"I thought I made it blatantly obvious that the answer was 'No'," he derided, continuing in his path to the door. "Or are you as mentally retarded as you are deranged?"

When he could feel her attempting to pull her wand on him, he clucked his tongue in disapproval. "I would love to see you explain it to the Dark Lord as to why you attacked me without permission to do so when I am merely attempting to carry out his instructions. I'm sure he would also be more than interested in the motives behind your pathetic attempts at seduction."

The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he heard her erupt in a fit of curse words, and he quickly strode for the exit. As soon as he stepped out into the cold air, he apparated immediately to the Hogwarts gates. When he was certain no one was watching, he sent his Patronus to the Headmaster before sprinting down the lengthy gravel path as fast as his legs could carry him.

Less than ten minutes later, he burst through the door into the Headmaster's office and nearly collapsed onto his knees.

"Where?" Dumbledore queried in concern, as he stepped away from Fawkes. "When?"

"Soon," Snape panted, grimacing as he doubled over to catch his breath. "Diagon Alley….and the Bones residence."

"Which Bones?"

The man shook his head. "I don't know. I assume Amelia is the target, though any of them could be at risk."

The Headmaster nodded and sent a multitude of his phoenix Patronuses off into the night. When he turned back to the room, he eyed his spy carefully. "You are certain this will not jeopardize your position?"

Severus nodded and sank into one of the chairs. "The Dark Lord very explicitly told me to bugger off before he shared any information with the general population. Only Wormtail supposedly knew beforehand."

"May I ask how you gleaned the information, then?"

The man sighed and rubbed his temples. "Lucius is looking to keep his son out of it, and Narcissa has taken to elf-whispering."

"You trust that he is not setting you up for a fall?"

The dark-haired wizard nodded and leaned his head against the back of the chair. "_Bellatrix_ undoubtedly is attempting to. The Malfoys, however, have requested that I provide Draco with assistance in his present venture that unfortunately appears to have been kept confidential between the boy and the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore frowned and took his own seat. "The boy has received training in Occlumency."

"No doubt thanks to dear, old Aunt Bella," the younger man sneered. "The woman has virtually no capacity to practice the art, but that has not stopped her from trying. I imagine that if Draco had any natural potential, she would be capable enough to coach him through it."

"Regardless," the elder wizard stated softly, "an indirect approach is unlikely to yield any answers. The young Mr. Malfoy will need to trust in someone if the nature of his mission is to be discovered before it is too late."

Severus exhaled loudly and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and holding his head in his hands. "I do not exactly foresee Draco risking his mother's life to trust me."

The Headmaster tilted his head and adopted a contemplative expression. "I believe that, perhaps, you are overlooking some very significant factors in your assessment of the situation. I think you may be closer to gaining his confidence than you believe."

The Potions Master raised his eyebrows in confusion, but before he could voice his question, a silver lynx streaked through the window and came to stand in the middle of Dumbledore's large desk.

"Amelia Bones and her brother's family have been taken to a safe house," Kingsley Shacklebolt's strong voice sounded. "Order members and Aurors are stationed along Diagon. Will update regularly."

When the lynx disappeared into thin air, Albus steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. "Peter will bear the brunt of this treachery."

"I will not lose any sleep over it," Snape sneered, rising from his chair.

The bearded wizard nodded in understanding and placed his hands in his lap. "I, too, will sleep sounder knowing that it will not be you paying the price of Tom's failure."

The tall man swallowed uncomfortably before eyeing the door.

Dumbledore gave a small smile and dipped his head. "Good night, Severus."

Without saying anything further, the younger professor stole from the room and quickly descended the spiral staircase to the base of the tower.

As he walked through the darkened corridors, he attempted to process the night's happenings. When Voldemort had demanded that he leave prior to any information being shared, he had been frustrated that he would have nothing to report as well as concerned that perhaps the Dark Lord's trust in him was waning. It could have been possible that the tyrant was using that evening's activities as a test – he could not be blind to the fact that there was a leak in his organization – and he was likely attempting to eliminate his spy as the source.

Severus let out a deep breath and closed his eyes in a moment of gratitude for the Malfoys' love of their son. If the Dark Lord assumed that Wormtail was the only one privy to the information that was leaked, it was entirely possible that the rat would face extermination before the close of the holiday. He tried to find the glee he had always expected to find at the traitor's demise, but currently he could only find an exhausted acceptance.

_If only it had been Bellatrix_. He grimaced at the scene that had taken place in the hallway not even an hour before. If it had not been for Lucius's warning ahead of time, it would have taken him much longer than it had to figure out what the cold-hearted wench was up to. She obviously knew enough about the binding curse to know that unsatisfied sexual urges would weaken the dark magic at an increased rate, and so she had more than likely hoped to stir him up a bit before sending him away in need of release. Hermione would have paid the subsequent price, and as a result, he would have been scrambling to find a believable explanation that would not endanger his standing with the Order.

Though he hated to admit it, the dark witch was a formidable strategist even when deranged. She was ruthless enough to sacrifice Voldemort's success if it was necessary to place herself at the front of his ranks, but not reckless enough to risk his knowing it. Snape had bought himself some time by implying that he was aware of and would alert the Dark Lord to her underhanded motivations.

He was not ready to tattle yet, however. If Voldemort were to split his anger between Bellatrix and Wormtail, neither of them would be removed from the overall picture, and they both would continue doing everything they could to discredit him. With the tyrant's full wrath focused on Pettigrew, one menace would be eliminated immediately, and the other would be tempered somewhat by the looming threat of meeting her own comeuppance. Bellatrix would not surrender in her pursuits to sabotage the reconnoitering he was supposedly doing through Hermione, and he would make damn sure to bide his time until he could use it to his full advantage.

Until then, he just needed to watch his back – and apparently his front – around the crazy bitch.

At the feeling of being watched, Severus came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the corridor leading to his quarters and cleared his throat. "You may come out now."

As a rustling sounded from the shadows at his right side, he calmly glanced in that direction and watched as a tabby cat sauntered into the moonlight and morphed into the form of the Deputy Headmistress.

"You know, for a cat, you're remarkably awful in the practice of espionage."

Minerva snorted and adjusted the bridge of her glasses. "Well, I can't help it if you're exceptionally paranoid, Severus."

"Is there a particular reason you're lurking?"

The woman took in a deep breath and looked him over in concern. "I saw you leave. Now that you're back, I wanted to make sure you received attention if necessary."

With a sigh, the wizard shook his head. "I am fine, Minerva. Nothing more than conversation and putting up with drunken debauchery, I can assure you. Not far removed from what I'm sure I will suffer through in the staffroom following tomorrow's feast."

McGonagall gave him a trying look. "I highly doubt the two of them are comparable."

"Oh, indeed, they are, Madam," he smirked.

The witch rolled her eyes as she began walking back to her own room. "There is next to zero risk of your being subjected to the Cruciatus if you fail to mingle."

"However, there is a risk of being scheduled to chaperone Hogsmeade visits," he added as he reached the top of his staircase. "I think I may prefer choking on my own tongue to keeping tabs on pubescent students trying to choke each other with their tongues."

"And yet you've willingly done them both recently when you did not have to," she grinned coyly. "Tell me, Severus, does Miss Granger know the extent of the suffering you're prepared to go through for her?"

The man froze mid-step and glanced over his shoulder. He was uncertain of what to reply, so he simply held her gaze for several seconds. When the muted sounds of clock chimes struck twelve times, he instinctively looked to the ceiling and then back at her.

McGonagall's smile softened and she took in a quick breath. "Merry Christmas, Severus."

"Merry Christmas, Minerva," he replied quietly, before giving a dismissing nod and disappearing down the dark stairwell.

Chuckling to herself, the elder witch whispered her password to the lion cub. When the door swung inwards to her quarters, she shook her head and shared a look with her painting. "How long do you think it'll take him to realize it, hmm?"

The lion cub peered out of the corner of his frame and wrinkled his furry nose. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he spun on his heels and stalked away with his tail swishing in a manner eerily reminiscent of the Potions Master's robes. He then abruptly peered over his shoulder and arched one eyebrow.

As the Deputy Headmistress loudly snorted in amusement, the cub came prancing back and collapsed with a sigh as he shook his head.

"I agree, Reginald."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I think that goes right here."

Hermione startled slightly and then confusedly glanced at her father. "What?"

"The piece you're holding in your hand," the man explained as he pointed to a section of the puzzle that was unfinished. "I think it goes right here."

"Oh, sorry," she whispered, handing him the piece and then watching as he successfully put it into place.

From her seat on the red sofa, Jean lowered the novel she had been reading and cautiously eyed her daughter. When the girl returned to staring blankly at the table, the woman frowned slightly and, after marking her page, shut her book with a snap.

"Anybody interested in some hot chocolate?" she asked, rising from the couch. When her husband made an excited noise, she made her way toward the kitchen. "Hermione, would you care to help me?"

The young witch looked up in surprise, but nodded and followed her mother into the other room.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Hermione noticed her mother glancing at her in concern as she pulled supplies out of the cupboard. "Erm, yeah. I'm fine. Why?"

The woman shrugged as she set three mugs down on the counter. "You've just seemed terribly preoccupied since yesterday. I thought something might be wrong."

"Oh," she sighed, leaning her elbows on the countertop. "No, it's nothing."

"Hermione Jean Granger, do not lie to your mother."

The witch snorted and then took in a deep breath. "It's just… I'm worried about S—Professor Snape. He was… badly hurt a few days before he brought me here, and I just wish I knew that he was still okay."

Jean stared at her critically for a few seconds as she filled the teapot with water. After putting it on the stove to heat, she ushered her daughter to the kitchen table. When they were both seated, the woman rested one elbow on the table, and set her chin in her hand. "Can I ask you something without having you get upset?"

"What?" she asked slowly.

Her mother sighed and bit her lip for a moment before speaking. "Is there something I should know about…well, regarding you and your professor?"

"What!" Hermione's eyes widened and she straightened immediately in her chair as panic began to set in. "You think that he and I… that we… He hasn't taken advantage of me, if that's what you're implying."

"Darling, settle down," she sighed, placing a gentle hand on the girl's arm. "You don't need to get so defensive. I didn't mean to imply anything of the sort. I just meant that…well, with how worried you are, that maybe you were developing feelings for him."

"Mum!"

"What?" the woman protested. "It's a fair question. I don't see why you're getting so upset about it."

The girl shook her head. "Because you're asking if I have feelings for my professor!"

Jean laughed in amused surprise and grabbed hold of one of her daughter's hands. "Sweetheart, you do realize how commonplace an occurrence that is, don't you? It's perfectly normal for teenaged girls to crush on male professors."

"Honestly, Mum," Hermione grumbled, "it isn't like that! I'm worried for him because he's my professor and because he's my…friend, I guess. He's done so much to keep you and Dad safe and has been teaching me how to protect myself and –"

The whistling of the tea kettle interrupted her arguments, and her mother smirked as she patted her on the hand. Rising from the table, she quickly moved to take the kettle from the burner. "All the more reason for a woman to change her perceptions of a man, I would expect."

"Mum!"

The woman snorted at the indignant expression on her daughter's face. "You know, dear, if you weren't blushing so much, I might believe you."

The witch whimpered loudly and buried her face beneath her arms on the table. "You don't understand."

"Oh, I think I do," Jean chuckled as she stirred in the powdered chocolate mix to one of the mugs. "It's the classic Knight-in-Shining-Armor complex, isn't it? How do you think I ended up going with your father, hmmm? Granted, keeping me afloat through Organic Chemistry doesn't exactly compare to what the professor's done for you."

Hermione grimaced as she sat back in her chair. "Would you stop?"

Her mother smiled over her shoulder. "If I can't tease my own child, who can I tease?"

"Ugh," the girl wiped her face as she stood up from the table. "Just don't do it front of Dad, please. I don't need him thinking about it, too."

"Trust me, love," Jean murmured, picking up two of the mugs. "He's already considered it – from the professor's perspective, of course."

"What?" she stammered, grabbing the cup that was held out to her. "Why?"

"Because it's the classic Damsel-in-Distress complex," the woman responded, walking toward the door. "He wouldn't be doing a very good job as a father if he didn't consider it."

Letting out a huff of air, Hermione rolled her eyes and followed her mother out into the living room. She waited for the woman to leave a hot chocolate beside her father's elbow, and then the two of them moved toward the Chesterfield sofa.

"So," Jean smiled, sinking into the velvet cushion, "while we're on the subject of men –"

A loud groan emanated from the corner of the room, and the witch looked back to see her father scowling at the puzzle before him.

"See," her mother whispered, briefly leaning in closer. "So, how are Harry and Ron?"

With a slight grimace, Hermione relaxed against her mother's side and launched into an extensive account of the teenage drama plaguing Gryffindor Tower.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

With a fire crackling happily in the grate and familiar holiday tunes spilling out from the radio, Hermione felt as though there had never been a better Christmas celebration in her family. She currently sat curled up on the couch watching her parents sway together in time to the music, and she smiled cheerfully when she heard her mother's laughter spilling out at something her father had whispered.

Resting her chin on her knees, she wondered off-handedly if she could ever find that easy sort of happiness with Severus. She supposed that if they were ever given the time, it was possible. Their precarious position in the impending war, however, made that possibility extremely remote.

"Hermione, come dance with your dad," Jean called, slipping out of her husband's grasp. "I need to sit down for a bit."

The young witch eagerly scrambled off of the sofa and accepted his out-stretched hand. She allowed him to pull her close to his chest, and she rested her head on his shoulder as they settled into a slow rhythm. Closing her eyes, she focused on the feeling of being tucked securely in her father's arms and tried to push all of her negative thoughts and concerns out of her head.

When the first few bars of "Jingle Bell Rock" filled the air, Sam immediately picked up the pace and began intermittently twirling his daughter about and dipping her nearly to the floor. By the time the song had concluded, she collapsed onto the couch next to her mother and had to catch her breath.

"Weaklings, the both of you," he smirked, turning the music down to a quiet level.

"Yeah?" Jean challenged, throwing her arms around her daughter's torso. "Well, I have a darling baby girl, and you don't."

The man adopted an expression of mock despair, causing Hermione to laugh and roll her eyes. It was something her parents had done when she was little – pretending to fight over her – and while it was somewhat embarrassing, it made her feel at home.

"Well, you _could_ always share me," she sighed.

"Would you look at that?" Sam grinned, plopping onto the couch. "Brilliant, too. Must get it from her daddy."

His wife grinned before placing a kiss on her daughter's temple. "We'll just let him think that, won't we?"

Hermione nodded and tossed her father a playful smile as he pretended not to have heard his wife. She sighed happily, grabbing hold of one hand from each of her parents and relaxing against the back of the sofa. After several quiet minutes of watching the fire, she nervously cleared her throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear," her mother responded, squeezing her hand.

She let out a short breath and straightened in her seat. "What happened after I…left?"

"Oh, sweetheart –"

"Really, Mum," she interrupted softly. "I want to know."

The woman shared a look with her husband before nodding slowly. "We had a feeling you wouldn't make it the week without asking. I guess I can start at the beginning, then. When you ran out of the house, we nearly went after you, but then we decided you needed some time to sort things out. We knew it was more than likely that you had gone to the park – I mean, that was where you went when you were little and declared you were running away."

The girl grimaced mildly as she remembered the horrible bout of teasing she had endured from her eight-year-old classmates that had led to that action.

"When you weren't back in time for supper, your father went to look for you, but you were gone." Jean sucked in a sad breath and closed her eyes. "We hoped desperately that you had gone to one of your friends' houses, but we had no way of contacting them to find out. We were so worried about you, and we rang all of the neighbors and the police, but no one had seen you.

"We stayed up all night, hoping you would come back or contact us somehow. And then, in the middle of the night, there was a knock on the back door, and your professor was there. He told us that you had been…" she faltered, her voice cracking and her lip trembling, as she continued, "…taken and that you were…hurt. It was the worst moment of my life, and I remember screaming at him to take me to you. When he said he couldn't, I kept pleading with him, telling him that my baby needed me. He was trying so hard to calm me down, but I was going crazy. Finally, he grabbed my shoulders –"

"And then I nearly hit him," Sam interrupted.

"Oh, daddy," Hermione mumbled tearfully at seeing his pained expression. Briefly leaning away from her mother, she rested her head against his shoulder.

Jean pulled her daughter's hand close to her chest and sighed. "He somehow managed to sit me down. He looked so tired and defeated, but there was this look in his eyes that…oh, I don't even know how to explain it. But when he told me that you were safe and that you were going to be alright, I believed him. He made me a promise that he would do everything in his power to protect you, and just the way he said it made me trust him."

The witch nodded in understanding, remembering a number of occasions in which she had felt the same way.

"He explained to us that we were the ones in danger, and that we needed to leave that night," Sam stated, picking up the story when he noticed the look on his wife's face. "He gave us an hour to collect everything we wanted to take with us, so I gathered all of the photos, keepsakes, and necessities while your mother and the professor worked to pack all of your things."

"He took care of your desk, books, and school things, while I packed your clothes and toiletries," her mother explained.

Hermione gave a relieved sigh as she sat up. "Oh thank God. This whole time, I've had this horrible image of Professor Snape going through my underwear drawer."

Though her father grimaced, his wife laughed audibly and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Though, you should have seen that man trying to coax Crooksie into his carrier. You would have thought he was battling the devil himself."

The girl smirked briefly as she remembered seeing the scratches on the back of Snape's hand. "What happened next?"

"Well, he miraculously shrank all of our stuff into a manageable pile, and then he app-apparated – I think that's what he called it – us to another house. It was absolutely horrid – the apparating _and_ the house – and I was sick all over the floor. I don't know how your father managed to not be sick."

"Stomach of steel," he muttered quietly.

"Yes, lucky you," she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we spent four days unable to leave that dump of a residence in Cokeworth –"

"Which your mother insisted on cleaning during our entire stay."

"—before he came back. He gave us an update on how you were, and then apparated us again – this time to a village in Devon, where he had a large van waiting. He made our stuff normal sized again, loaded the van and then drove us here. We spent the afternoon unloading everything; he left us a sizeable amount of cash, and a set of instructions. He drove away with the van, and the next time we saw him was on your birthday. And then again when he brought your letter."

"Instructions?" Hermione asked curiously, glancing between both of them.

Her father sighed and gave her a light smile. "We are now Samuel and Jean Bakersfield from London, and if anyone we met remembered the professor, I was to claim that he was my second cousin. We can go into the village when we want, as long as we're careful about what we do and say. We're not to invite anyone to the estate, and we're not to mention you to anyone."

The girl fiddled with the edge of her jumper sleeves as she considered that information. After a minute she took in a deep breath. "Did you know our house is gone?"

"Yes," Jean nodded. "He told us that it would be destroyed, and that we would cease to exist as ourselves. It was difficult to swallow, but we're alive and that's what matters."

Her daughter took in a slow breath. "Until two months ago, I didn't even know you _were_ alive."

"Oh, darling," the woman sighed, wrapping her arms about the girl and pulling her close. "I'm so sorry. Your professor didn't quite explain why it had to be that way, but he said that as soon as it was safe for you to know, he would tell you."

"He did?"

"Yes," she nodded, pushing hair out of the girl's face. "And then when we got your letter, we were so happy to know that you were at least safe enough to write us."

"I'm sorry I didn't write back," she whispered, "but I just couldn't make him sacrifice an entire day to deliver it."

Her mother kissed her forehead while her father rubbed her shoulder. "It's perfectly alright, Hermione. We much prefer having you here in person than having another letter."

"I didn't even know I was going to spend the holiday with you until you opened the door," the witch mumbled against her mother's shoulder. "He kept it a surprise until then."

"Did he now?" Jean raised one eyebrow and smiled knowingly as she caught her husband's eye. "Well, that sounds like he gave us all a very special Christmas gift, doesn't it?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus sighed when a knock sounded on his office door. Without pausing in his note-taking, he barked out permission for entrance. When he flicked his gaze up to see the Deputy Headmistress closing the door behind her, he let out a small breath of relief. For a moment he had been concerned that Vector had grown bold enough to venture down to the dungeons.

"You left the party to mark papers?" she queried in disbelief. "On _Christmas_? I realize that you enjoy cutting down student work, but this is a bit excessive."

"Have you come to assign punishment for my inadequacies in mingling?" he sneered.

Minerva rolled her eyes as she collapsed into the armchair. "And indulge you in your comparison of staff meetings to Death Eater gatherings? I think not."

"How inconsiderate of you."

"Indeed," she stated, eyeing his quill critically as he dipped it into a well of black ink. "You're not marking."

"Clearly age has not diminished your powers of observation," he commented half-heartedly.

The witch raised one eyebrow and leaned forward, snatching the open book from his desk. "My _age_ has not diminished my ability to duel either, so I would keep that in consideration if I were you."

Snape snorted and balanced his quill atop the inkwell. "Did you have a purpose for coming down here besides harassment?"

"It's Christmas, Severus, which means that this is considered visiting, not harassment," she remarked, glancing over the top of her glasses at the small print of the large textbook.

"I beg to differ."

"You don't beg, Severus. You bellow." She frowned briefly and then glanced up at him. "This is a Muggle Neurobiology text."

"Is it?" he asked, widening his eyes in mock surprise. "I had no idea."

McGonagall let out an irritated huff and dropped the book back on his desk. "Did the elves short sheet your bed? Or perhaps piss in your porridge? You're remarkably acerbic this evening."

The wizard rubbed his forehead and then stared harshly at the top of his desk. "Pettigrew is dead."

"What?" she cracked in surprise.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "There was to be a series of raids over the midnight hour, the details of which only he and the Dark Lord held in possession. I alerted Albus to it upon my return, and there was Order interference. If you did not yet know, you would have been told at tomorrow's Order meeting. Malfoy owled not long ago to inform me that Pettigrew was murdered this morning – strangled by his own hand – when he could provide no evidence of anyone else's treachery."

"Oh," she whispered. She stared at her hands for a moment before letting out a long breath. "I used to torture myself endlessly about how I treated that boy in my class when I thought he had been killed by Black. And then when I found out he had been the one… I felt disgusted with myself for thinking of him as anything more than the hero-worshipping coward he had always been. But now… now… I cannot help but wonder if there was something I could have done differently that would have prevented his sedition. Or something I could have done for any of you."

"It does not do to dwell on the 'What if's, Minerva," he muttered uncomfortably.

"I know," she agreed, "but knowing that and keeping oneself from doing it are two separate things."

She paused for a moment while watching his face. "Please tell me that you are not blaming yourself for his death. He sealed his fate the moment he resurrected You-Know-Who."

Severus shook his head. "I am not torn up over his demise, I assure you."

"Then what else is wrong?"

"Emmeline Vance was killed in the attack," he stated after a few seconds.

"What?" she gasped mournfully. "No."

Swallowing hesitantly, he hung his head. "I did not glean any more information on the location besides it being Diagon Alley, and they were spread too thin as a result. She was left to deal with Bellatrix and the LeStrange brothers on her own. She did not stand a chance."

The witch closed her eyes in sorrow at the news of the Order member's death. When she opened them again, she took in the pained expression on her colleague's face and then stood from her chair. She moved around the edge of his desk and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "It is not your fault, Severus. How many more would have perished had it not been for your efforts?"

"I know that," he snapped before running his hand through his hair.

"But knowing and doing are two separate things," she commented sadly, briefly squeezing his arm before making her way back to her chair. Reaching down to her bag, she pulled out a bottle with a bulbous neck and sat it upon the edge of his desk. "Well I had planned on a drink to celebrate the holiday, but I suppose we shall just have to toast to Emmeline instead."

Severus raised one eyebrow as he glanced at the bottle of Old Pulteney. "Muggle Scotch?"

"Muggle research; Muggle booze," she smirked, gesturing toward the textbook as she conjured up two tumblers. "It's something to remind me of home. The distillery was not far from there, and there was always a bottle or two stashed away in my father's study."

"I thought your father was a minister," he remarked, covering his mouth with his hands as he rested his elbows on the desk.

"Everything in moderation," she responded with a shrug. After filling the glasses, she passed one over to him. "Even sinning."

Snape snorted tiredly and accepted the drink.

"To Emmeline," the witch murmured, raising her glass. When he mirrored the sentiment, she took a slow sip and leaned back in her seat. "So, why don't you tell me what it is you're doing studying Neurobiology, hmm? Looking for a change in career?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, "though one would be more than welcomed."

"You say that now, but you know that you'd miss it," she smiled lightly over the rim of her glass.

The man sighed loudly and tapped his fingertips against his notebook. "There isn't anything written on the binding curse outside of its more visible symptoms. It quite obviously affects the nervous system, so I thought perhaps if I understood that better, there would be a chance of figuring out a counter-curse…or at least something that would insulate against the worst effects. Since the Wizarding World remains rooted in blissful ignorance, my only option is the Muggle realm of science."

"Well, Hermione seems to be handling it brilliantly thus far," she murmured in contemplation. "I know it isn't ideal by any means, but if there isn't anything to be done about it, I have faith that the two of you will get on well together."

"For how long, though?" he groaned, swirling the amber-colored liquid about in his glass. "What if I've sealed my fate already? I refuse to let her perish because of my youthful idiocy."

Minerva sighed loudly and shook her head as she leaned toward his desk. "Severus Snape, you have done no such thing. Your fate is your own to decide, so do not make the mistake of thinking otherwise. Peter Pettigrew chose to spend his life scampering about in the shadows of the wrong people and found his worth in doing everything he could to please them – generally at the expense of others.

"You may have done your fair share of following others blindly, but you have an exorbitantly intelligent brain in your head and a compassionate heart in your chest. You are more than competent enough to make the right decisions, and you are certainly strong enough and dedicated enough to see them through to fruition.

"Do not compare yourself to that vermin – you hear me? He was not one one-hundredth of the man you are, so stop dwelling on the 'What if's and wallowing in misery and self-pity. Everyone makes mistakes in their lives, and you have more than paid up for yours."

The wizard had remained silent through her lecture, and when she finished he took in a steady breath. Averting his eyes from her impassioned stare, he flicked his gaze down to his half-filled glass of Scottish whisky. "Everything in moderation, hmm?"

The Gryffindor head snorted in amusement and relaxed against the armrest. "Even self-pity."

Severus took a slow sip of his drink and then eyed her curiously. "Is this what you came down here to do? Shout at me and then liquor me up?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she smirked. "I had hoped that I could coax you back upstairs. I think Remus would be much relieved to have someone of his own decade with whom to chat."

"Absolutely not," he snapped, setting his drink down and folding his arms in defiance. "If Lupin is feeling that anxious, I'm sure that Vector would be more than willing to provide him comfort."

"What does Septima have to –" McGonagall trailed off mid-sentence, and her eyes suddenly brightened in realization. "_That's_ why you dislike her? She made a pass at you?"

When he grimaced in disgust, but made no verbal effort at a rebuttal, the woman dropped her jaw in astonishment. "Severus Tobias Snape, _when_ did this happen?"

Grumbling beneath his breath, he scowled at the top of his desk. "The first such occasion was five and a half years ago."

"_Five_ years ago? The _first_ occasion?" she stammered in disbelief. "Just how often has she propositioned you?"

"Whenever she gets bored, I suppose," he sighed.

Minerva eyed him in curiosity. "And have you ever –"

"Do not even suggest it, witch," he snarled, holding up a finger in warning.

"I'm not criticizing, Severus," she protested with a shake of her head. "It isn't as though it's against staff policy, the two of you are both adults, and she's a decent-looking –"

Snape cut her off with a loud groan. "She's a miserable wench with a superiority complex who is practically old enough to be my mother."

"Oh, she is _not_ nearly old enough…" the woman paused abruptly as she caught sight of his pointed glare. Quickly, she scanned her memory and then sighed. "Alright, fair enough. It had slipped my mind that she and your mother were schoolmates. I apologize. I often forget that your mother was so young."

_Well, I do not._ He exhaled loudly and then downed the remainder of his Scotch. "Has that satisfied your need for mindless gossip?"

"If she is harassing you, Severus, I can –"

"No," he snapped. "I can manage perfectly fine without filing a complaint. I did not tell you this so you could take official action."

"You would not have told me at all had I not guessed first," she corrected sternly. "But because you did, I will accept your absence this evening. Thank you for showing up for the ten minutes you did."

"How considerate of you, and it was _fifteen_ minutes," he smirked. "Now, shouldn't you make your way back upstairs?"

"But I haven't nearly finished liquoring you up," she mocked with a crooked grin.

Snape snorted as he reached for the bottle to refill his tumbler. "I will not hesitate to file a complaint against _you_, if that's what you're after."

"Ha!" she barked in unexpected merriment. "Don't be absurd, Severus. _I_ really _am_ old enough to be your mother."

When he opened his mouth to retort, she held up a finger in warning. "Don't you dare say another word, young man. I was barely twenty-four when you came screeching into this world. I'm not _nearly_ old enough to be Hermione's grandmother, let alone yours."

"You wound me, Madam," he grinned, "for I merely meant to suggest that you only _appear_ older than you really are."

"Oh, you really _are_ a bastard today," she chuckled, shaking her head. After finishing her drink, she set down the glass and reached down into her bag again to extract a small package wrapped in shiny gold paper tied with a crimson bow. She tossed the gift onto the desk in front of him and then began pouring herself another glass.

Severus glanced down at the Gryffindor-inspired wrapping paper and rolled his eyes. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk and paused briefly before grabbing a box wrapped in silver paper. Clearing his throat, he held it out for her to grab.

When it was in her grasp, the witch shook it gently and raised one eyebrow at the slightly muffled sound it produced. "Well, that rules out more jingle balls. Catnip mice, perhaps? Cat crunchies? Another collar?"

"Just open the damn thing," he muttered, watching her.

"Ever the charmer," she snickered, tearing off the paper to reveal a flat, black box. "I don't know why you're so bloody interested in my reaction. Because unless you've managed to stuff both Delores and Sybil in here, you're going to be sorely disappoint – oh, you RUDDY BASTARD! What the HELL have you done?"

She gaped at the pair of delicate, dangling emerald earrings and then up at his face. She flicked her gaze slowly towards his untouched gift and then back at him. Without a word, she suddenly launched out of the chair at the box only to have him immediately snatch it out of her reach.

"I think not." With an amused look on his face, Snape slowly untied the ribbon and removed the paper. As she stood by nervously watching him, he opened the white cardboard box and frowned in uncertainty at the appearance of bright-colored feathers. Narrowing his eyes, he lifted the clump of feathers out of the box. "What exactly is –"

The wizard barely had enough time to yank his hand out of the way when the large ginger cat, appearing seemingly from nowhere, suddenly flew through the air and tackled the pretend bird to the floor. He sat, stunned, watching Crookshanks bat the fluffy object about the entirety of his office floor, narrowly avoiding knocking over a shelf of glassware in the process.

"_You_ bought _me_ a cat toy?"

"Well, I had thought it an ironic turnabout after all these years," she commented quietly, fiddling with her bun. "I wasn't expecting you to go and be a fanny bawbag about my gift, now was I?"

The man frowned and crossed his arms. "I may be new to the task of buying women jewelry, but I don't think it's customary to be insulted for doing so."

"I'm sorry, Severus," she laughed quietly, raising the box to examine the gemstones better. "It's just… completely unexpected. Really, they're absolutely gorgeous, but you didn't have to do this. Catnip mice would have been perfectly fine. Honestly, it's too much."

"You know, a Slytherin witch would have accepted them without batting an eye," he scoffed, "but not the noble Gryffindor woman. Oh no. Her heart can bleed day in and day out, but don't you dare try to acknowledge her efforts. She'll cuss you out and then try to give back her gift."

"My efforts?" she repeated, staring at him in confusion. "If you're referring to my assistance with Hermione, it was –"

"And my mother," he interrupted quietly.

Minerva widened her eyes in surprise. "Your mother?"

"You were her favorite professor," he explained, staring at his hands, "even before you sat with her at her mother's funeral."

The witch blinked back tears as she set the box on the edge of his desk. "Severus Snape, you stand up out of that chair right now."

He snapped his gaze to her immediately, but he begrudgingly did as instructed. Before he had a chance to protest it, she stepped forward and threw her arms around his neck. She hugged him silently for several seconds before stepping back and touching his cheek in a motherly gesture.

"I would have been proud to have a son like you," she smiled before stepping away from him. Wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, she picked up her earring box, and glanced at him over her shoulder. "And for your information, I never expressed any intent of giving them back. You can take that image of grand nobility and stuff it."

Severus stared at her in surprise and then rolled his shoulders in discomfort. Fortunately for him, the tenderness of the moment evaporated further when the Deputy Headmistress picked up her bag and fixed him with a pointed look.

"And if you ever tell anyone that you made me cry, I will issue detention to every member of the Slytherin Quidditch team to be served on the day of every…single...match…for the rest of this year and next."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As Hermione lay in her bed that night, she stared up at the dark ceiling and pondered how her parents would handle the future. If she and Severus survived the war – and whatever fallout may arise over their connection – they would still be "forever entwined." Lying to her parents about their relationship seemed the preferable option, but would she be able to keep it up? And if they did tell them the truth, would her parents understand that he had never wanted to harm her?

As daunting as that set of questions was, the even bigger concern was what would happen to her parents if Severus did not survive. He was the one who was supporting and protecting them. If he was gone, who would be there? And how would they live with the loss of their only child? Would they hate him when they discovered why she was dead?

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

The girl snapped her gaze to the door where her mother's head was peeking in from the hallway. "Yeah, just thinking about something."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, it's alright," Hermione responded, shaking her head.

Her mother gave a tight smile, but dipped her head in acquiescence. "Alright then. Good night, love."

As the door clicked shut, the girl bolted upright in bed. "Wait!"

"Yes?" Jean asked, an amused expression on her face as she opened the door again.

Her daughter bit her lip and sank back to the bed in uncertainty. "About Professor Snape…what if I do… what if I do have feelings for him?"

The woman let out a long breath and leaned against the door jamb. "Well, I suppose that would depend on the nature of those feelings. And on any feelings he may have for you."

"And if we both do?"

Her mother narrowed her eyes slightly and cocked her head in contemplation. "I think that may be a bridge to be crossed if ever we come to it."

"Mum," she groaned quietly. "That isn't an answer."

Jean sighed and crossed her arms. "Hermione, how strong are these feelings you have?"

The witch paused momentarily and sucked in an unsure breath of air. "I don't…erm…I don't know."

"Are these the fleeting fancies of a seventeen-year-old girl?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't think they are."

The woman blew out a tired breath as she stepped into the room. "I assume there currently isn't a Mrs. Professor Snape."

When the girl indicated a negative response, Jean wiped her face with one hand and closed her eyes. "And how old is he exactly?"

Hermione hesitated, thinking back to the articles that had been written about Sirius during her third year and doing some quick arithmetic. "Thirty-seven, I think? Give or take a year."

"Wow," her mother murmured. "Twenty years is quite a gap, Hermione."

"Aunt Moira always says that age is just a number."

Jean snorted under her breath as she perched on the edge of the mattress. "Yes, but twenty is a _big_ number. And my sister isn't exactly the best source for advice when it comes to love or men."

"I suppose not," the witch sighed morosely.

Her mother patted her arm supportively and then shrugged. "Then again, love doesn't always work out the way you expect it. And if you really do love him, your father and I will just have to get used to the idea. It might be a bit easier to do, though, since we already know he is capable of protecting you."

Jean smirked as she leaned forward and placed a kiss on her daughter's head. "Plus, it always helps to have a son-in-law who is still at least a decade younger than you are."

"Will Dad see it that way?" she queried in concern.

Her mother grinned and sighed. "You worry about keeping focused on your school work and everything else you need to do. Let me worry about your father and his reaction to what happens _after you graduate_."

Hermione smiled and giggled softly. "Yes, Mum."

"And who knows," she commented, waggling her eyebrows, "maybe if we use you as collateral, he'll knock a couple zeros off of our rapidly accumulating debt."


	47. Ringing In the New Year

**A/N: I am so sorry for such a long delay! I've been so busy with everything, and then when I did get back to writing this, I kept arguing with myself over a particular part of this chapter. Eventually I told myself to shut up and go away, but I'm still a wee bit concerned that perhaps myself was right. So I guess we'll see what you all have to say.  
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**Thank you all for being so patient and continuing with the story! I mentioned this in my A/N on _Rumored in Love_, but I absolutely adore how many of you immediately jump to my defense if someone offers a criticism - even with something as trivial as the preparation of hot chocolate. You all are awesome.  
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**Now, make my working weekend brighter by leaving your thoughts!**

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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 47**

In what seemed like the blink-of-an-eye, Hermione found herself being gently shaken awake on the morning of January first.

"Up and at, 'em, pumpkin-bear," her father smiled. "Mum's got breakfast on the table."

"Mmkay," she mumbled, pushing up from the mattress. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, yawned, and then blinked rapidly at the amount of sunlight streaming in the window. "What time is it?"

Sam smirked as he stepped back to the door. "A little before noon."

"What?" Hermione launched out of bed and ran a hand through her messy hair. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

He shrugged as he grabbed hold of her door. "Your mother and I have only been up a few hours ourselves, and you looked too peaceful to disturb. Seeing as your professor will be here soon, though, we thought it would be a good idea for you to be fed and dressed."

As the door shut behind him, the witch hurried over to the small wardrobe where she had stored her clothes. Grabbing a pair of jeans, a blouse, and some underwear, she quickly changed out of her pajamas and began stuffing her belongings into her travel bag. It was only after she had everything packed that she contemplated the look that been on her father's face when he emphasized that she be dressed.

With a frown, she slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder and rushed down the old staircase. Depositing her bag by the front door, she moved into the kitchen.

"Good morning, dear," Jean smiled, looking up from the table. "If you need the loo, you'll have to wait a moment. Your father's in –"

"You told him, didn't you?" Hermione whispered harshly.

"Darling –"

"You _told_ him that I…" her voice squeaked and then dropped in tone as she spoke rapidly, "…that I have feelings for Professor Snape."

Her mother sighed and set down her coffee mug. "Hermione, I don't keep secrets from him – not when they're important, and not when they're about you."

"But what if he does something?" the girl protested.

Jean shook her head sympathetically. "He won't. He's just concerned about his little girl, and he was just as distressed whenever you went to the Burrow or London with your friends. He doesn't want to see you grow up, and more importantly, he doesn't want to see you get hurt."

The witch took in a deep breath and slumped against the counter. "Professor Snape _isn't_ going to hurt me."

"No, I don't think he would," the woman agreed, leaning back in her chair. "But that doesn't change anything. He's still your father, and it's been his job to protect you since the moment we discovered we were going to be parents. It scares him that he has no ability to keep you safe from anything in your world, and he doesn't like having to relinquish his role to someone else."

Feeling properly shamed, Hermione folded her arms against her stomach and dropped her gaze to the stone floor. At the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open a moment later, she looked behind her to the mudroom. When her father appeared in the kitchen, she quickly stepped over to him and threw her arms around his neck.

"I love you, Dad."

Samuel briefly donned an expression of surprise, but recovered after a few seconds. Wrapping his arms around his daughter, he placed a kiss on her head. "I love you, too."

After squeezing him tighter, the girl released her hold on her father and then headed into the lavatory. When she was finished, she returned to the kitchen and pulled out the chair beside her mother. She had just finished piling French toast and bacon onto her plate when there came a knock on the front door.

Her father immediately pushed his chair out from the table and strode toward the sitting room. Hermione made an effort to follow him, but halted when her mother cleared her throat and grabbed her hand.

"Eat your breakfast."

"But, Mum –"

"Eat," the woman repeated.

The witch huffed, but begrudgingly picked up her fork. "You said he wasn't going to do anything."

"And he isn't," she replied as she took a sip of her coffee. "Now, eat."

Hermione cast an anxious look toward the kitchen door before loading up her fork. When nearly five minutes had passed without either man stepping into the room, she groaned and glanced at her mother again. "What do you think they're doing?"

"Hmmm," Jean mumbled casually as she sipped her coffee, "I would suspect they're having a discussion –"

"About what?" she interrupted with wide eyes.

"Settle down, Hermione," the woman sighed. "There are some maintenance concerns regarding the cottage that we wanted his input on before we do anything, and the professor mentioned he would be bringing funds. I'm sure that required a conversation."

The girl let out a small breath of relief and took another bite of her breakfast. "Are you sure that's all they're discussing?"

"Well," she sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, "I suppose your father could be attempting to appear as intimidating as possible."

"Mum!" the witch hissed, launching out of her chair and spinning toward the door. She only made it half a step before the door was pushed open, and she found herself face-to-face with her Potions professor. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately felt her cheeks flush as her momentum nearly caused her to collide with him.

Snape raised one eyebrow as he eyed her with amusement. "Granger."

"Se-sir," she stammered, blinking and taking a step back from him.

"Were you finished with your…_breakfast_?" he smirked, glancing at the small clock on the kitchen wall that clearly displayed it was past midday.

Hermione cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes, I –"

"No, she's not," Jean interrupted, rising from the table. "Can I offer you a plate, Professor?"

"There is no need to trouble yourself," he shook his head and stepped out of the way as Sam returned to the table.

"It isn't a bother at all," the woman smiled as she moved past him toward the cupboard that held the dishes. "In fact, I insist you join us."

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but resigned himself to silence when she pointed to the table.

"Sit." When he did as instructed, Jean smiled to herself and set an empty plate in front of him. "If you think I'm about to let you escort _my_ baby girl all the way to Scotland without putting any food in your stomach, you best think again."

Hermione groaned in embarrassment and hid her eyes as she attempted to make it through the rest of her meal. After a minute or two, the shame faded into curiosity, and she subtly glanced at the wizard sitting beside her. At seeing the sullen expression on his face as he speared a bite of French toast, she choked back a laugh and promptly choked on her own mouthful of food.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

The witch nodded as she coughed, and then blushed scarlet when she noticed that all three adults were staring at her in concern. After taking a quick sip of her orange juice, she cleared her throat and attempted a brief smile. "I'm fine."

"Are you quite certain, Miss Granger?" Snape asked, raising one eyebrow as he noted how she was rubbing her sternum and grimacing.

As she glanced up at him with wide eyes, a grin broke out on her face and she nodded emphatically. "I'm certain."

When he grunted and seemed to return his attention back to his plate, she chewed on her lip and proceeded to do the same. Her eyes happened to catch sight of the telling smirk on her mother's face, however, and they hardened into a cautioning glare until the woman looked away and sighed good-naturedly.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

An hour or so later found Hermione sniffling – as a result of both the cold air and the tearful goodbyes she had just given – as she followed closely behind the wizard into the woods. When she glanced behind her and could no longer see the cottage, much less her waving parents, she shuffled a few extra steps and slipped her arm through his.

"Thank you," she murmured, resting her head against his shoulder as they walked.

Severus cleared his throat and shifted his hold on his broom to prevent it from accidentally poking her. "I apologize that I could not allow you more time with your family, but starting late this evening, I must begin preparing the Wolfsbane or risk Lupin attempting to eat another student."

The witch snorted in spite of her horrible memories of third year and tightened her grip on his arm. "It's perfectly alright. I never actually expected to see them, so I am more than content to have spent ten days with them."

"I might believe you," he sneered softly as he assisted her over a large patch of icy, uneven ground, "if it were not for the tear tracks freezing to your face."

Hermione quickly rubbed her face with her gloved hand and then flashed him a nervous smile. "Sorry. It's still hard to leave knowing that it's highly likely that I'll never see them again. But I understand completely that it was time to go…and…well…I really _did_ miss you."

The man looked down at her suddenly; his shock causing him to forget the first half of her statement. "What?"

"Well, I mean, I've pretty much seen you every day for the past four and a half months," she explained quietly, "and even when I don't see you, I generally know you're there… so it was just strange, I guess, not having you nearby. That, and I was worried about you."

Severus cleared his throat and frowned as he glanced back at the terrain in front of them.

"Did you have a decent holiday?" she asked a few seconds later.

Knowing full well she was probing to see if he had been further injured, he took in a deep breath and nodded. "There was a dreadfully boring party at the Malfoys followed by an even more dreadful staff celebration, which concluded in an evening drinking session with Minerva. The rest of the week was spent in meetings and catching up with my teaching duties."

Hermione smirked as she looked up at him. "You know, I used to think that you and Professor McGonagall disliked each other."

"Alert the _Prophet_," he sneered, "the infallible intellect of Hermione Granger has been proven faulty."

The witch rolled her eyes and leaned against him. "With the way the two of you behave in front of the students, can you blame me?"

"I suppose you're right," he sighed as they came to the edge of the trees. "No one ever wrote it in a textbook, so you couldn't possibly have known."

She huffed bitterly and pushed away from him. Spotting the telltale signs of a smirk on his face, she immediately scooped up a handful of snow and threw it in his direction. He stopped abruptly as it hit him squarely between the shoulder blades, and the girl instantly regretted doing it. She winced as he slowly began turning around and opened her mouth to fumble her way through an apology.

"Severus, I'm really sorry...erm… I don't know what I was – Ohhhhh!"

Hermione gave a startled cry when the boughs of the tree she stood beneath dumped their entire snow load on her head. She jumped about, attempting to shake snow out of her coat before more of it went down the back of her shirt.

"I trust we're quite finished with that venture?" he queried, leaning casually against his broomstick.

"Mmm-hmmm," she nodded, whimpering as she scooped an entire handful of melting snow from her neck. "That wasn't fair."

"There are many things I am known for being, Granger," he sighed as he moved out into the clearing, "but being fair isn't one of them."

She shivered slightly as cold drips of water trickled down her bare back, but blew out a confident breath as she followed him. "You have your moments."

"Hardly," he scoffed quietly. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, he turned back to face her and then gestured to her head. "Is it manageable for you to tie back that mane? I have no wish to be blinded mid-flight."

The witch sighed and began digging through her coat pockets for a hair binder. Upon finding one, she held onto it with her teeth while gathering the curly locks spilling out from beneath her winter cap and quickly working them into a thick plait. When she finished fixing her hair, she shook out her arms and cleared her throat. "What were you and my dad discussing when you first arrived?"

He glanced at her curiously and then casually rolled his shoulders. "Upkeep."

Hermione raised one eyebrow. "Upkeep?"

"The cottage had been in my grandmother's family for quite some time, and stood uninhabited after she died in 1925 until I discovered it fifteen years ago. I updated what I had time and money to do then, but there are still a number of things that need improvement. Is that sufficient enough of an explanation for you?"

She nodded and then gave a relieved smile, which caused him to narrow his eyes in consideration.

"Is there a particular reason for thinking something _else_ may have been the topic of discussion?"

The girl shook her head quickly. "No, not at all. Just curiosity."

"Granger," he pressed.

Hermione cleared her throat and gestured to the broom he was holding. "Are we about ready to leave, then?"

The wizard eyed her critically for several seconds before mounting the broomstick. "Would it be at all possible for you to face forward?"

"But I liked the other way," she blurted. She flushed a deep shade of crimson as soon as she realized how it sounded, and then glanced away from his penetrating gaze. "It reduced the motion sickness."

"For a witch, it is highly ridiculous the degree to which you hate heights."

"Not heights, but the moving really, really fast at said heights," she stammered. "And being able to see everything beneath you, feeling like you could fall at any moment. It was slightly better with Buckbeak, when there was actually something substantial beneath me. I practically had to keep my eyelids glued shut with the thestral last year – though I suppose it might be better now – but with a broom… yeah, I _really_ hate it."

He sighed and then held out his hand to help steady her as she climbed onto the broom. As she adopted the same position she had ten days ago – with her limbs wrapped around his midsection and her head tucked into his shoulder – he grunted uncomfortably and shook his head. "We're going to have to work on conquering your fears of flying."

She made an unhappy groan and squeezed him tighter as he smoothly kicked off from the ground. "Why?"

"Because the day may come where you need to be able to command a broom with confidence," he grumbled, attempting to ignore the effect that the vanilla scent of her shampoo was having on his thoughts. "Honestly, witch, how is that you managed you pass flying lessons?"

"Madam Hooch grades on participation," Hermione whispered, burying her nose deeper into the folds of his cloak and smiling at the subtle smell of herbs. She then turned to rest her cheek against his chest and glanced up at his chin. "And I very pointedly did not eat before those lessons after I had to make a few impromptu runs to the loo to empty my stomach."

_Vomit_. Severus raised one eyebrow as he steered them higher. _Vomit would be a safe enough topic to consider, wouldn't it? Keep any lecherous thoughts at bay –_

"You're rather good at flying," she smiled.

_You didn't hear that. Ignore her. Don't think about anything more than flying or –_

"I don't mind it with you because I know you won't let me fall," she mumbled beneath her breath as she closed her eyes and relaxed.

He chanced a glance out of the corner of his eye at the girl nestled into his chest and then swallowed hesitantly. _Fuck. Think about vomit, you twit._

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

A few hours later, the pair spiraled into the sitting room of the Slytherin Head's quarters. The wizard set her bag on the end of the sofa and cast aside his winter cloak before sending the portkey back to its hiding spot amongst the top shelf of books.

Severus then sighed and wiped at his face. "There is not likely to be anyone in the Gryffindor common room since supper is about to be served, so you may use the Floo to return to your dormitory if you wish."

The girl swallowed hesitantly and watched as he dropped into the leather armchair, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the chair. She glanced about nervously as she slowly pulled her gloves off and stuffed them in the pocket of her coat. Rubbing the back of her neck, she shifted her weight and stared at the fireplace for a few seconds.

She briefly considered dropping her bag off in her room and then heading down to the Great Hall, but dismissed that notion with a sigh. Her mother had industriously seen to the task of feeding her, and so Hermione had practically eaten more in the past week and a half than she had during all of the last term. There was also the fact that she really did not want to leave his quarters. As unbelievable as it sounded, she liked spending time with the cantankerous wizard. She liked having real conversations with him; she liked knowing that he was capable of smiling; and she honestly did like kissing him.

A blush crept onto her cheeks as she glanced towards his unmoving form. In her mind, she kept seeing the shocked expression that had been on the man's face when she kissed him in the cottage. It probably had been a blessing in disguise that he had returned to the castle instead of spending the holiday with her family. Even with him hundreds of miles away, though, she had every now and then found herself pondering whether or not he would have actually kissed her back had she not pulled away so soon.

The conversation with her mother regarding the possibility of feelings had only made things worse in that regard. She had only meant to say it in the hopes that it would give her mother time to come to terms with the idea if the war were actually to end favorably for them. As her vacation progressed, however, she had started contemplating if there could actually be something more that she felt for him or if she was just experiencing the "Knight-in-Shining-Armor" complex that her mother had mentioned.

But as she stood in front of him now, she wondered if it really mattered in the grand scheme of things. They were to be bound together for life – however short that may be – so did it really make a difference why she cared for him? If life was to be chaotic, violent, and difficult, wouldn't it make sense to seek out brief bouts of mutual enjoyment and pleasure wherever it was possible?

With her cheeks flushing an even deeper hue of red, she swallowed back her hesitation and quietly moved towards his chair. Tentatively, she touched his shoulder and perched lightly on his lap.

"Granger," he said warningly, flashing open his eyes, "what are you doing?"

Hermione ducked her head and briefly flicked her gaze to his face. "Well, I don't want to go back to my room yet, and I'm not yet hungry."

"And that explains your being on my lap how?"

"Well, I already spent the afternoon here, didn't I?" she smiled shyly before leaning into him. When she attempted to kiss him, however, he stopped her by placing two fingers on her lips.

"Granger," he spoke in a low voice. "You do not have to do this."

"I know I don't _have_ to," she whispered, shifting her face to rest her cheek against his hand. "But I _want_ to… and my name's Hermione."

"Gra-," he sighed loudly upon seeing her pointed stare. "Hermione, we should not –"

The witch let out a loud sigh and slumped her shoulders. "Every other girl can snog her boyfriend whenever she chooses."

Snape's eyes widened suddenly and hesitantly pulled his hand away. "Are you referring to me as your _boyfriend_?"

"Erm, well, no," she stammered, touching the end of her braid. "That doesn't quite suit the situation at all, does it?"

When he raised his eyebrows in exasperated confirmation, she gave half a laugh and dropped her attention to one of the buttons on his frock coat.

"What about 'significant other'?"

Severus snorted under his breath, but when he saw a disappointed glimmer in her eyes, he shrugged. "I suppose that may be acceptable."

The girl snapped her gaze to his face and let a small hopeful smile back onto her face. "So as your significant other, is it also acceptable for me to kiss you?"

When he said nothing, she let out a huff and picked at the button in frustration. "Is that how it's going to be then? Always about obligation and never about desire?"

He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he spoke carefully. "Hermione, other women can…ask their partner to stop at any time. Because of the binding curse… you cannot."

"I know," Hermione nodded, flattening the palm of her hand against his chest. "And I'm okay with that. I like… I like the way you make me feel."

The wizard's breath caught in his throat when he took in her candid gaze. After half a minute's pause, he placed his hand against the side of her face and stroked her warm cheek. Straightening somewhat in his chair, he reached with his other hand to remove her winter cap. As his gaze flickered between her eyes and her mouth, he gradually leaned forward and caught her lips.

The girl smiled against his mouth and slid her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, she giggled softly and ran the tip of her tongue between her lips.

Snape smirked, sliding his hand to the base of her head and pulling her face closer to his. He pressed his lips to hers and then gently caught her bottom lip with his teeth. As she gasped at the new sensation, he kissed her open mouth. The witch let her eyelids flutter shut as they kissed, and she moaned involuntarily when his tongue slid along hers.

"You're good at this, too," she stammered breathlessly when they separated a minute or so later.

He shook his head slightly and snorted as he pulled the binder out of her hair. "Oh, because _you_ have the expertise to judge it objectively."

Hermione gave a cock-eyed grin as he shook her hair loose from its braid. When he slid his fingers across her scalp, she closed her eyes and relaxed against his chest. She placed a soft kiss on his lips and then glanced up at him shyly. "But I can still judge subjectively, can't I?"

"If you must," he sighed, capturing her mouth once more. When she began tugging erratically at the buttons on her winter coat, he pulled away from her long enough to assist her in its removal.

"This one, too," she whispered with a tug on his frock coat. "Too warm."

Severus glanced at her in amusement, but did as she requested. As the article of woolen clothing fell to the floor, he wrapped one arm about her waist and cupped her cheek with the other hand. "This is what you want?"

She dragged her gaze from his lips to his eyes and then nodded slowly.

"Because I can stop now," he whispered, watching her face for any signs of hesitance. "If we go much farther, I cannot guarantee –"

The witch silenced him by pressing her lips to his. She drew back only far enough to whisper against his cheek. "I don't want to stop. I want this. Please?"

Desire flared through his veins as he gripped her hair and all but devoured her mouth. A few minutes later, she tugged away and braced her hands against the back of the chair as she shifted her position so that she was now straddling his lap. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his arousal, he groaned and grabbed hold of her waist.

Placing a kiss to the base of her throat, he smirked at the shiver it produced and then raised one eyebrow. "Do you also wish to suffer through the same clumsy groping that _every other girl_ is forced to experience?"

Hermione raked her teeth over her bottom lip and then flicked her eyes up to his. "You could skip the clumsy part."

"As you wish," he whispered, pulling the hem of her blouse out from the waistband of her jeans. As his mouth found hers once more, his hands cupped her bum before moving under her shirt and slowly drifting upwards along her bare back. By the time he had reached her bra, she was panting against his lips fisting her hands in his soft hair.

The wizard left her mouth and trailed a path down her neck at the same time he began unbuttoning her blouse. She gasped when he simultaneously nipped at her collarbone and pressed his palm against her breast. When she could think again, she shrugged out of her shirt and waited somewhat impatiently as he removed her bra. He found her mouth again and kissed her hungrily, swallowing her moans as he circled his thumbs over her nipples.

The girl slid her hands down from his shoulders to grasp the collar of his shirt. Eventually, the need to feel his skin against her heated flesh became unbearable, and she clumsily began pushing the buttons of his shirt through their holes. When she had completed the task, she wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled herself against him.

Groaning softly, Severus slipped his hands out from between their torsos and placed one at the back of her head and the other behind her thighs. In one smooth motion, he stood from the chair and carried her into the bedroom. Upon reaching the bed, he perched on the edge of the mattress and set her feet upon the floor. As she stood between his knees, she continued kissing him while he began unfastening her jeans and tugging them down her legs. She pulled away from him long enough to step out of them and pull off her socks and shoes before straddling him once again.

Once she removed his shirt the rest of the way and tossed it aside, he sank back against the mattress, pulling her down on top of him. They continued kissing for several minutes before Hermione shifted slightly and rubbed against his arousal as a result.

"Fuck!" Snape hissed, suddenly launching into a seated position and nearly causing them to knock heads.

Her heart pounding, the witch tried to gain control of her thoughts as he leaned away from her. "What? What's wrong?"

Grumbling beneath his breath, he stretched his long arms to yank open the drawer of the nightstand and dig around until his hand enclosed upon a vial of the salmon-colored contraceptive. After shoving the drawer shut, he held it out to her. "Before we completely forget ourselves, you should take this."

Nodding, the girl quickly tossed back the contents and immediately re-sought his lips.

With a pained groan, the wizard yanked his head back and grimaced as he ran his tongue over his teeth. He grabbed the empty flask from her hand and stared at it in disgust. "_That_ is positively vile."

"I _told_ you it tasted like death," she giggled.

He raised one eyebrow in agreement. "I thought for certain you must have been exaggerating a bit."

She shook her head as he banished the flask back to his lab, and then quietly squeaked when he rolled her onto her back.

"I am sorry, Hermione," he said softly, brushing curls out of her face as he stared down at her.

"For the taste?" she asked, confused.

He snickered in spite of himself and then shook his head. "For everything."

The witch shrugged in response and offered him a shy smile. "It's not your fault."

He swallowed in uncertainty and closed his eyes. At the feel of her fingertips on his jaw, he opened his eyes and took in the look of concern in her eyes. The desire to rid her of that absurd sentiment had him suddenly assailing her already swollen lips. With one of his hands pinned beneath her shoulder blades, he allowed the other one to slowly drift from the side of her face to cup her breast, and then to gently trace a random, spiraling path down the length of her torso and over the swell of her hip. When he leisurely stroked two long fingers over the center of her damp knickers, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk as she gasped loudly and arched into his hand.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, slamming her eyes shut as he kissed along her throat and continued caressing her through the cotton fabric.

When his lips reached her clavicle, he paused and glanced up at her. "Hermione."

"Hmmm?" she mumbled, fluttering open her eyelids.

"Do you trust me?"

Nodding slowly, she swallowed and touched his face again. "I trust you."

With a smile, the wizard placed a kiss to the inside of her palm before lowering his lips to her chest. After closing his mouth around one of her nipples, he slipped his hand beneath the waistband of her knickers and began gently moving against her.

Hermione closed her eyes as he continued his ministrations, half-mortified by the volume of noises tumbling out of her seemingly on their own accord, but enjoying the feeling far too much to fully care. As the pressure built and burned in her center, she dug her fingers into his shoulders and desperately began pushing back against his hand. And when he shifted his attention to her other breast, she whimpered loudly and clenched her legs about his arm. Feeling as though she could either explode or burst into tears at any given second, she turned her face and pressed her forehead into the green bedcovers.

"Please," she whispered, thrusting upwards. "Severus, please!"

Detaching himself from her nipple, he looked up to see her face contorted in agonized pleasure and felt himself grow even harder as a result. With a groan, he leaned forward, placing more weight behind the movement of his fingers, and gently ran his teeth over a spot on her neck where he had found she was particularly sensitive.

Almost immediately, the witch came apart beneath him with a muffled cry. After her body had fully collapsed onto the bed, he withdrew his hand from her knickers and placed a much softer kiss on her flushed forehead. At the action, she glanced up at him with glazed eyes and gave him a smile as she slowly touched her hand to her head. Her chest was heaving as she tried to communicate. "That was…"

He arched one eyebrow in silent question.

"…I don't know," she stammered breathlessly and shook her head. "I can't actually think."

Snape snorted softly as he rose back onto his haunches, slipping his arm out from beneath her. "Alert the _Prophet_."

The girl giggled quietly and breathed deeply as she propped herself up on her elbows. For a brief second she was concerned that he was leaving, but when she saw that he was only standing to remove his trousers, she took in a relieved breath and slowly moved to the center of the bed and rested her head against the pillows. When the mattress depressed slightly and he appeared above her, she quirked her lips into a smirk and raised her pelvis to aid in his removal of her underwear. "We go again?"

The man chuckled at the phrase that had so often punctuated their personal apparition, Occlumency, and defense lessons. Nodding as he settled in the cradle of her hips, he lowered his lips to hers and whispered, "We go again."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Grimacing slightly, Severus ran a hand over his face and opened his eyes. He had managed a half hour or so of sleep, but it appeared that was the extent of the rest his mind would allow him. Blowing out a low breath, he glanced at the witch beside him who had been fast asleep for some time. He smirked lightly at the chaotic state of her frizzy curls, but acknowledged the fact that had he been the one being thrust repeatedly into the mattress his hair would have fared no better.

He swallowed hesitantly at the realization that he had not been as gentle with her as he had on previous occasions, but he reassured himself with the knowledge that she had appeared to tolerate it just fine. More than fine actually, if he were basing his judgment solely upon her physical reactions to him. He had meant to keep better control of himself during the encounter, but the moment his name spilled forth from her lips in such a manner he had been consumed by the need to hear it again. And he had.

Snape narrowed his eyes in contemplation as he considered the effect the witch was beginning to have on him. He had purposely stayed away from her the past week and a half to give him the time and space to mentally distance himself, and yet within six hours of being in her presence again, he was allowing them to take yet another step down a slippery slope. They were going to have to tread even more carefully because of it. In addition to the concerns he supposed that one would have in a teacher-student relationship, there was also the bond's magic to consider.

He took in a deep breath as the girl turned over in her sleep, and the sheet attempting to cover her fell away enough for him to catch a glimpse of his name scarred over her spine. Frowning, he pushed himself up to pull the bedcovers over her bare shoulder, and then brushed a lock of hair out of her face. Thankfully, she did not wake, and he sat back, resting his elbows on his knees and his face against his interlocked fingers.

_"No matter how you see her, she isn't just your student any more. She's your partner, whether you like it or not_."

He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Minerva was wholly correct when she had earlier criticized his handling of the situation, and he also knew that she had been correct in stating that Hermione was dealing with the situation remarkably well. Unbelievably well. Only four and a half months had passed since the binding, and yet she was not only coming to him willingly because she had to, but because she _wanted_ to. Severus closed his eyes with the knowledge that he would never understand how she could be so forgiving of his transgressions against her. He certainly had never been so tolerant with any of the individuals who had caused him harm.

The soft chimes of the clock in the sitting room caught his attention, and with a sigh, he realized that it was time to begin brewing. He slid out of bed gently so as not to wake her and wandlessly _accio-_ed his clothing and wand to him. He froze in the midst of pulling on his boots when he heard the rustle of the sheets, but when she simply pulled the pillow to her more tightly and continued sleeping, he quickly finished tying the laces and then moved toward the door. He glanced toward the bed once more before pulling the door shut behind him and descending the staircase into his office.

He had truly meant it when he had told her that he would do whatever he could to make things easier for her. And that meant that if she wanted to pretend that they were in an actual relationship, then he would allow her that. Within reason, of course, which meant that he would just have to tighten the reigns regarding his feelings toward her. He did not wish to cause her further suffering because he had allowed his thoughts to drift somewhere inappropriate.

As he lifted his large pewter cauldron onto the stand, he groaned upon recognizing that not six hours after giving Samuel Granger his word that he would take care of his daughter, he had taken the witch into his bed. As a juvenile voice in the back of his head argued that he had successfully _taken care of_ her twice, Snape scowled and lit the flame beneath the cauldron. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he beat down that particular connotation of the phrase, and then moved about gathering necessary supplies. He was not certain as to why the man had felt it necessary to take him aside and had spoken to him as he had about protecting the girl, but Severus trusted that Hermione knew enough to keep certain details hidden from her parents. Had she told them anything too risky, he knew that the Muggle would not have been anywhere near as courteous to him as he had been.

Removing the modified bubble charm from the herb rack, he magically transported a bundle of dried aconite into the sizeable stone mortar that he reserved only for the preparation of Lupin's Wolfsbane potion. As he carefully began crushing it into a fine dust, he allowed his mind to consider the horrible scenario of having to explain the exact nature of their binding to the girl's parents. He doubted they would ever take it well if they knew that he had been required to rape their daughter and had used his magic to painfully bind her to him in a Dark Age ritual that was originally utilized as a means of declaring ownership during the enslavement or forced marriage of women to wealthy wizards.

"Fucking hell," Snape whispered, dropping the stone pestle and staring at the wall as a mental connection was made. For months he had been racking his brain trying to figure out just how in the hell it was possible for the witch to have been granted entrance to his quarters. He had not ever given her unrestricted access, and both Minerva and Albus had assured him that neither they nor the castle itself had either.

_It was in plain sight the entire fucking time!_ The wizard kicked the corner of his worktable as he realized the answer lie in the binding itself. He had bound her to him using _his_ magic. It was _his_ magic that needed to be replenished within her body to keep the bond strong. He had known the entire time that the bond had been forged in his magical signature, but he had never pieced it together that she was walking around bearing not only her own magical mark, but his as well. The castle was recognizing that his magic flowed within her and granted her entrance to his rooms because of it. He _had_ been the one to give her permission the moment he had thrust his mark upon her.

Severus sighed loudly and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. He had done everything he could think of to keep Hermione from thinking that she could ever be considered his property, and the bloody school was reacting to her as though she _were_ actually bonded to him in servitude.

_As though she were my personal house-elf._ He snarled as he picked up the pestle once more and began grinding the wolfsbane with more force than was needed. He was not going to tell her that. Honesty be damned, she did not need to know _all_ of the implications of the bond.

When he had completed crushing the herbs, he sprinkled half of the powder into the boiling water and started measuring out the previously-prepared ingredients that needed to be added for the first brewing period. As he did, he continued thinking about his sudden revelation and wondering if perhaps it could explain more than just her sudden ability to move unchecked through his quarters. It had been nagging at him for a week and a half that Hermione had mentioned Lily in response to his explanation for not involving Dumbledore in the protection of her parents. It had seemed conspicuous that she would have nearly blurted it out only a few days after he revealed it to Lupin. She _had_ been in his room when he had returned from the summoning and she _had_ known that he had been called. It was entirely plausible that she had been eavesdropping from the stairwell - why, he did not know – but it was the most likely explanation for her knowing that he held Albus partially responsible for failing to keep the Potter family safe.

Snape probably would have been more irritated regarding her spying if it had not been for the realization that, if she had done so, it meant the _Muffliato_ he cast had had no effect on her hearing the conversation. And if that were true, then what else could be affected by it?

"Severus?"

The wizard turned suddenly to see the girl in question stepping off of the bottom step and pausing behind his desk to rub her eyes with the back of her hand. She had pulled her hair back into rather voluminous ponytail and had dressed in a pair of pajamas that she had retrieved from her travel bag. She yawned softly as she glanced at the steam rising from the cauldron and then frowned.

"What time _is_ it?"

He cleared his throat as he tossed in the ginger root. "I imagine it would be nearing nine by now. There is a clock on the wall should you find the need to verify."

Hermione smirked and rubbed her shoulder. "Sorry. I think my brain is still half asleep."

Grunting, he turned back to his work table and began splitting open kola nuts. When he noticed her creeping toward the cauldron out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head. "That's close enough, Granger. I cannot guarantee that the fumes have completely lost their toxicity."

"Oh," she murmured, rising up on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the murky brown liquid. "How long does it take before it's not?"

He returned to his work with a shrug. "Generally it requires a half-hour to an hour to dissipate to a safe enough level for inhalation. I would give it at least another forty minutes before you go standing over it."

"But you were standing over it a minute ago," she pointed out.

The man turned slightly and fixed her with a trying look. "I've been working with Wolfsbane since you were in nappies. I think I've managed enough of a tolerance that periodic two-second exposures are not going to kill me. You, on the other hand, should not press your luck."

She sighed glumly, but nodded and turned away from it. As she approached the wooden chair, it transfigured into her usual armchair seemingly of its own volition. With a sly look over her shoulder, she witnessed him slipping his wand back into his sleeve and picking up the large knife once more. Deciding that he probably would not appreciate her drawing attention to his efforts, the witch simply climbed into the chair, grimacing only briefly at the ache beginning to form in her muscles. Tucking her feet underneath her, she silently watched him work for several minutes before her thoughts began to drift to another potion to which he had apparently built a tolerance.

"Do you think we should revisit the Veritaserum lesson soon?" she asked quietly, picking at the edge of the chair.

Severus looked up from where he was dropping the diced kola nuts into the brew. As he stepped back to the table, he raised one eyebrow. "Are you comfortable with that?"

Hermione shrugged and folded her arms. "I think so, yes. Unless there's something else I could possibly say on accident that will –"

"No," he muttered. "I will not lose my temper as I did with you before."

She took in a deep breath and leaned against the corner of the chair. "Then I am fine with it."

"Then we may proceed with it tomorrow afternoon during the second brewing period," the wizard responded, turning back to the worktable and pouring a number of deceased scarab beetles into a smaller mortar.

"Do you really have to monitor this for eight hours?" she frowned.

He nodded as he began crushing the desiccated insects. "At that point, the concoction will be stable enough to set under stasis for six or so hours. The other half of the wolfsbane will then be added along with the second grouping of ingredients, and I shall be required to monitor it again for the same length of time. It will then have to be filtered to remove any remaining plant material to prevent him from poisoning himself with too concentrated a dose. While the main stock will remain under stasis for the week, each individual draught will need to simmer three hours in a silver-plated cauldron before being ingested. "

"That's insane," she gasped, shaking her head. "How can you possibly do that every month?"

"As I am doing now, I generally brew it on the week-end," Snape responded casually. "There are fewer distractions."

Hermione took in a deep breath and uncrossed her arms. "Have you ever been… _called away_ in the midst of brewing?"

He gave a sigh and nodded. "It has occurred once. It was not at a point to remain stable under stasis, so it had to be pitched and started afresh. Luckily, it was only halfway through the first session so that only four hours were wasted on an unusable concoction and not an entire day."

"There must be an easier method somehow," she murmured pensively.

The professor snorted. "Develop one, Granger, and your fame will rival Potter's in this generation and completely obliterate his for the rest of Wizarding civilization."

She gave a small smile and shook her head. "If it's not written in a textbook, how would I ever accomplish it? Besides, _you're_ the one with a Mastery in Potions. _You_ develop one."

"I have enough lives on my conscience," he muttered in a low voice. "I do not need any more."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him distribute the crushed scarabs evenly over the surface of the bubbling liquid. "What do you mean?"

Severus swallowed apprehensively as he set the mortar back upon the table and then rested both hands on the table. "Do you have any idea of the length of time it took to develop _this_ method of preparation? Or how many volunteers lost their lives due to aconite poisoning? And I use the term 'volunteer' very loosely for there were several bouts of Ministry-enforced programs of forced participation. Or how many researchers were bitten, maimed, or killed when there was too little of the poison in the attempt? Or how many unhinged persons have exploited its existence as nothing more than a means to rid the world of lycanthropy one victim at a time and will advertise their services to desperate individuals?"

"I never thought of it that way," she whispered sadly, dropping her gaze to her lap.

He nodded in agreement and then pulled forth a chair as he sat near enough the cauldron to see over the edge.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Hermione rested her chin atop her knees and considered the implications of his statements. The Wolfsbane potion was heralded as something next to a miracle, but she now wondered if perhaps it had killed more people than it would _ever_ aid. The production process was so complex and so easily corrupted that the chances of a successful potion resulting from it were slim. There was no doubt either that the population of werewolves greatly outnumbered the population of witches and wizards with the skills and patience capable of producing the brew, and the former was increasing at a much greater rate than the latter.

_And really it was more of a treatment than a cure anyway._ She blew out a deep breath and scowled, realizing that sometimes the solution held more consequences than did the problem. It now made perfect sense to her as to why the werewolf population in general was afraid to accept the Order's offer of providing them with the potion. Why would they trust in it now when it had spelled death for so many of their brethren?

Nearly a quarter of an hour passed with her thoughts centered on the morbid subject before she began to ponder a question that had been bothering her for an entire fortnight. Glancing at the man sitting several feet away from her, she chewed on her lip as she debated whether or not he would know the answer. Finally deciding that it could not hurt to ask, she breathed deeply and then cleared her throat.

"Severus?"

The wizard turned his head just enough to acknowledge that he was giving her his attention.

"Do you know anything about thestrals?"

He narrowed his eyes in confused surprise as he hesitantly responded in the affirmative. "I know _something_ about them, yes. However, if you are suddenly interested in adopting one, Hagrid would be a more appropriate consultant."

When she did not elaborate on her interest immediately, he gave one cautious glance toward the cauldron before turning to fully face her. At seeing the nervous expression on her face, he arched an eyebrow. "What is it you wish to know, Granger?"

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze and she took another deep breath before answering. "Why can I see them?"


	48. Asking Questions

**A/N: Finally! I am so sorry for taking SIX WEEKS to finish this. Ugh, real life can be a nightmare! **

**A LOT of SS/HG interaction in this chapter, and I promise there will be more action next time. I've also had a few requests for chapter titles, so I think I will work on those as well. **

**Thank you for all of your continued prodding and poking. I hope you enjoy reading, and I look forward to your reviews as I watch the blizzard set in. **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 48**

"What do you mean?" Severus responded with a raised eyebrow.

The witch let out a small huff of air. "I think it's fairly obvious what I mean. I couldn't see them before, now all of a sudden I can, and I want to know why."

He rolled his eyes under the pretense of checking the status of the brew and then refocused his gaze on her. Taking in a deep breath, he folded his arms against his chest. "I had assumed that would be something you already knew, considering that you and the rest of Potter's gang of misfits flew all the way to London on them."

"Well, yes, I know that you have to have seen death in order to see them," she replied. "Harry saw them because of Cedric, and Luna because of her mother, but I haven't seen anyone die."

"You were not present when…"

"When Sirius died?" she finished before shaking her head and subconsciously rubbing at her sternum. "That was _after_ I…ran into Dolohov."

He nodded once as he briefly glanced back at the bubbling cauldron. "And you began seeing them…"

"I noticed at the end of term, when I walked with Ginny and Dean to the carriages."

Snape exhaled slowly while he contemplated the situation. He could feel her expectant gaze boring into the back of his head as he quickly stood to break up a clump of herbs that had floated to the surface. Silently watching the mixture smoothen out again, he frowned as he remembered something she had said earlier that day regarding her parents.

_"__It's still hard to leave knowing that it's highly likely that I'll never see them again." _

It was a statement that could be overlooked as a product of the bout of melancholy brought on by separation, but he remembered that she had appeared perfectly sincere at the time. She had used it offhandedly in explanation as though it was something that was set in stone.

His frown deepened as certain other memories suddenly fell into place. He could see the uncomfortable look on her face as Filius questioned her on her future plans, he could hear her disturbed thoughts as she contemplated throwing herself from the Gryffindor Tower, and he remembered her outrage at learning that she had been worrying unnecessarily about his well-being.

_"I know as well as you do – there were several days where the only thing keeping me alive was the knowledge that if I died, so did you. I couldn't bear the thought of taking someone else's life along with my own. I probably would have done it if it hadn't been for you."_

Grimacing, Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned to face her. "You are correct in the regard that you have to have experienced Death in order to see thestrals, but as per usual you are in need of expanding your frame of thought."

"What?" Hermione snapped, narrowing her eyes at the comment.

He sighed and cast a quick glance at the brew before explaining. "The widely-accepted explanation for the ability to see them is that one has both seen and acknowledged the concept of death, but the truth of it is far less defined. The notion that one can see them solely as a result of having witnessed someone die is bollocks."

The witch scratched her eyebrow and then shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Seeing Death and seeing someone die are not necessarily synonymous," he clarified, crossing his arms. "Who is to say what actually constitutes enough of an experience with Death? You've stared into the eyes of a soulless tyrant who prides himself on wreaking death and destruction, and have several times come far closer to your own demise than you should have. You were forced to watch your parents' murder – false memory or not, it was still real to you.

"Regardless of whether or not you've witnessed someone physically die, _you_ have _seen_ Death," he summarized quietly. "And you can see the thestrals because you unfortunately have accepted it as your fate."

As she processed his answer, she swallowed slowly. "What do you mean?"

Severus exhaled loudly and perched upon his stool. "Perhaps you'd care to share why you haven't given any consideration to your future education and career. And do not insult my intelligence by claiming that you have been too busy. Someone who willingly color-coordinates other people's revision schedules does not simply forget about University."

Closing her eyes, the girl rested her head upon her knees and remained silent.

"Unless you are suffering under the impression that I would prevent you from achieving –"

"No!" she interrupted sharply as her head snapped upright. "I don't think that."

When he simply raised an eyebrow in response, she sighed and wrapped her arms around her legs. Several seconds passed before Hermione spoke over the bubbling of the cauldron. "I don't see the point in wasting time thinking about something that will probably never come to be. I mean, Harry needs me to help him while I still can so… I just don't see the point."

"You've resigned yourself to die."

The statement hung in the air for nearly a minute while the witch attempted to get control of her emotions. Finally she cleared her throat and raised her chin defiantly. "I am merely thinking logically."

"Life isn't logical, Granger," he replied. "Nor is Death. Look at Potter, for Merlin's sake."

"Yeah, but what chance do _we_ have?" she shouted, gesturing wildly between them. "What chance do _I_ have? You risk your life every time he summons you. What happens if your shields slip? Or if he purposely feeds you false information to test you? Or if someone is watching you? What if Malfoy is watching you? Then you're dead, and I am too.

"Or me – what if I screw up again and he sees through my shields? We'd both be dead then, too! Or even if we do manage to make it to the point where he doesn't think he needs me anymore, I'm still dead! What good is a useless mud—"

"Enough," Severus stated forcefully. "That is _enough_."

Though she wanted to say more, the witch suppressed the urge and clamped her mouth shut.

Inhaling loudly, he folded his arms to his chest. "Yes, I risk my life, but not to the extent you're fretting about. My shields will _not_ slip –"

"How do you know?" she whispered harshly, wiping at her eyes where a few tears had unintentionally escaped. "What if he tortures you to the point that –"

"Have you forgotten everything I've told you?" he asked, cutting her off. "Despite the fact that I am exceptionally capable of managing pain, the mind is inherently programmed to protect itself from intrusion. I can assure you that even at Death's doorstep I have kept my shields intact."

"When?" she gasped, wrapping her arms around her waist. "_When_ was that?"

The man narrowed his eyes at her until it dawned on him as to why she was asking. "Hermione, it was _not_ because of you."

She took in a slow breath, but did not relinquish her questioning gaze, which caused him to sigh and rub his face.

"When Dumbledore asked that I return to the Dark Lord's side, a number of the others were not convinced that I had…remained true to the cause," he explained slowly. "The Dark Lord believed I had been faithfully carrying out his commands, but still decided that the rest of the Death Eaters were in need of a physical demonstration of my loyalty."

"Oh god," she grimaced, covering her face. "How badly were you –"

"It does not matter," he interrupted. "The point is: _my_ shields _will not_ fail. And I have been doing this long enough to know when I am being tested. I have yet to fall for any of his traps – of which there have been many. There is no doubt in my mind that someone _is_ monitoring me, which is why I am excruciatingly cautious at all times. But Draco Malfoy is _not_ watching me. Not directly, at any rate."

"How do you know that? I thought you didn't know what his task was."

"If his task were to keep an eye on me, the Dark Lord would have been the one to tell him that you were under contract, so to speak, and he wouldn't have confronted _you_ about spying on _him_," he argued. "No, his task is something else entirely."

The witch breathed quickly and straightened out her legs. "So if anyone gets us killed it will be me."

Severus opened his mouth to respond, but was momentarily distracted by the sound of an abnormally large bubble bursting atop the surface of the brewing potion. When he verified that all was well, he turned back to her. "Granger, _you_ have had the Headmaster's knickers in a twist the entire term by keeping him out of your head. As long as you keep _confidence_, you will be fine. _I_ have no doubts in your ability, and neither should you."

"You really mean that?" she asked softly.

He nodded in response and fixed her with steely gaze. "I will do everything in my power to keep the Dark Lord fully apprised of your value. I assure you that as long as Potter keeps himself breathing, _you_ will not lose your usefulness. Is that understood?"

Hermione gave a slow nod and bit her lip for a few seconds before glancing up at him again. "Do you suppose that the brew has lost enough of its toxicity yet?"

The wizard took in a contemplative breath as he stood and monitored the current hue of the bubbles. "I believe it is safe for you to stare at it, yes."

Without so much as a word, she pushed out of her chair and crossed the open space of the office. Just as he was in the process of turning around, she threw her arms around him and hid her face in his robes.

"Granger," he sighed, "is it impossible for you to make it an entire day without hugging someone?"

"What if it is?" she replied, squeezing him harder.

Snape snorted as he finally slipped his arms about her shoulders. A minute later, he extracted himself from her grip and tilted her chin up with his hand. "It may seem far-fetched, but we _do_ have a chance. I have said this before and I meant it with every fiber of my being – I will _not_ let you die. Do you hear me through that thick hair of yours?"

Her eyes began to water as she wrapped her arms around him again. "Thank you."

He grunted uncomfortably, but replaced one arm across her back as he turned them just enough so that he could continue watching the potion.

"Severus?" she mumbled, moving her head to rest her cheek against his collarbone. "Can you see them? The thestrals?"

Sighing deeply, he nodded. "It should come as no surprise, but yes, I can see them."

"When were you first able to?"

The wizard rubbed his temples with his free hand and then cleared his throat. "When I was sixteen – not long after Easter of my fifth year."

Hermione narrowed her brows and glanced up at his face in confusion. "What happened?"

With a raised eyebrow, he looked down at her and then pointedly stared at the brewing Wolfsbane. "There was a minor incident at the Shrieking Shack."

"Oh," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Do you honestly feel that you are responsible for something that occurred three years before you were even born?" he sneered.

"Well, no," she sighed, stepping away from him and running a hand through her hair. "It just never sat well with me when I heard Sirius bragging about that. I never told anyone this – mainly because Harry and Ron would probably never speak to me again and my parents would have withdrawn me for certain if they had known about what happened – but I actually sent an anonymous letter to the _Daily Prophet_ before finding out that you had told Slytherin House about Remus being a werewolf."

Snape snapped his eyes to her in disbelief. "You _what_?"

The girl winced slightly and then shrugged. "As a concerned student, I wrote a letter. I figured it out when you set the essay, but I thought that since Dumbledore had allowed him to teach that he was responsible – minus the whole Boggart incident, of course. I thought that was exceptionally careless considering the status of things, and I was rather relieved that Harry was ahead of me actually. But anyway, when he didn't take his Wolfsbane, and it seemed like Dumbledore wasn't going to do anything about it after the whole thing, I wrote the letter."

"You weren't released from the Hospital Wing until _after_ I announced it," he stated, crossing his arms.

With a smirk, Hermione crossed back to her chair. "I didn't surrender my Time-Turner until end of term. I waited until the boys were asleep and Madame Pomfrey was gone, and then I went back to just before you brought us to the Hospital Wing. I managed to get up to the Owlery undetected, wrote it with the spare parchment and ink up there, and waited to send it just before dawn. Since the Hospital Wing was locked from the outside, it was easy to get back in. No one ever questioned why it was unlocked, either."

"You mean to tell me that there were _three_ of _you_ running about the castle and grounds unsupervised?" He took a slow breath of censure and then wiped his face in exasperation. "Do you know how incredibly dangerous that was? Not to mention exceptionally stupid."

"I know," she sighed as she sat down. "I didn't consider it then, but I did after. I especially regretted doing it after I found out he would have resigned anyway."

The wizard let out a puff of air and glanced at the cauldron once more. "After all of that, you were still excited to see Lupin back teaching?"

"Well, I consider him a friend now," she shrugged. "Besides, he's the best Defense professor we've had the entire time I've been here. He doesn't have an undead Dark Lord growing out of the back of his head, he doesn't lie about everything but his hair, he hasn't stolen anyone's identity or traumatized students –"

"I beg to differ on that count."

With a wince, she nodded. "Fair enough, but he does actually let us practice magic. He may waste time and focus on less important things, but he's miles ahead of the rest."

"Wastes time?" he queried with a raised eyebrow.

"He spends an entire week's worth of classes on what you manage to cover in a one-hour session."

Severus smirked and cocked his head. "Perhaps I have the benefit of teaching an accelerated learner."

The witch blushed slightly but shook her head. "If that were the case, explain Neville. Using your method, he surpassed Harry within two class periods."

"You make it sound as if surpassing Potter is any great feat," he jeered. "I assure you it is not."

"Well _he_ got an Outstanding on his Defense OWL," she argued.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger," he groaned, rolling his eyes, "are you seriously that worked up that you only Exceeded Expectations? Might I point you in the direction of the nearest dictionary so that you can refresh yourself on the definition of _exceeded_?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "Might I point _you_ in that direction? Since _exceeding_ isn't good enough to get into your class. I know the only reason Harry's in Potions is because of _me_."

The dark-haired man slammed his mouth shut and glared at the bubbling potion. Begrudgingly he grumbled, "You may have a point."

"May have?" she sneered. "I _do_ have a point."

"Well then," he replied with a tone that hinted at amusement, "There's an inkwell on my desk and a stack of parchment in the top drawer that you're welcome to use."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Use for what?"

"To write a letter," he smirked. "You can send it to the Headmaster. He'll read it, I'm certain, just so he can disregard it and chuck it in the bin with all of the other suggestions for improving my classroom."

Her cheeks flushed at the realization that he was poking fun at her, but her temper vanished quickly as another thought drifted into her head. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"The Headmaster?" he asked, adopting a quizzical expression.

"No," she shook her head. "Remus. You're not going to tell him that I'm the one who outed him to the _Prophet_, are you?"

"Absolutely not," Snape responded, leaning against the worktable. "The furball believes he has cause enough to keep tabs on you, so it would be best to avoid giving him anything more for his arsenal. Besides, even without your letter, it would have only been a few hours before the first _concerned_ Slytherin student's letter reached the editors. So really the only difference is that you undoubtedly feel unnecessarily guilty."

"Well, not _that_ guilty anymore," she muttered under her breath before settling into the back of the chair.

The wizard arched one eyebrow at the comment, but opted to let it slide as the sound of a charm caught his attention. Automatically, he picked up the long crystal stirring rod and began moving it through the brew in a slow clover-leaf pattern. When he reached the mental count of forty-two stirs, he wiped the rod on the side of the cauldron and set it down on the end of the bench.

Glancing over his shoulder, he snorted at the sight of Hermione biting down on her lip as she stared at him with curiosity obviously burning within her eyes. "Yes?"

The girl startled briefly and rubbed her shoulder. "Oh, erm…nothing."

"Do not take me for a fool, Granger," he sneered. "I can personally attest to the fact that there is never 'nothing' going on in that head of yours."

With a slight blush of embarrassment, she cleared her throat softly. "Well, I guess I was just wondering…erm… how many OWLS you received."

With wide eyes, the Potions Master spun on his heel and faced her. "Now you wish to enter into an academic pissing contest with me?"

"I'm just curious!" she exclaimed.

"I'm sure that you've heard curiosity killed the cat," he remarked.

Hermione smiled and tilted her head. "Unless you ask my grandfather. He always maintained that it was stupidity that was truly responsible. Curiosity was just at the wrong time and wrong place."

"He sounds like an intelligent individual," Severus replied, crossing his arms again. "Very well, if you insist. I received ten OWLS, same as you."

"You kept track of my OWL results?" she queried.

The wizard smirked and shook his head slightly. "Merely because Minerva was down here with your sheet like a cat with a dead mouse at its feet waiting to be praised. She wanted to lord it over me that one of her cubs outscored everyone in my House."

Fighting back a grin, the girl cleared her throat. "And how did you score?"

He shook his head and turned back to the cauldron. "I have no desire to tell you."

"Does that mean I did better than you?" she asked smugly. "Or that you earned all 'O's?"

"Indeed," he answered, picking up the stirring rod again as he waited for another charm to sound.

The Gryffindor frowned. "To which one?"

"To the correct one," he responded coyly, beginning another round of clover-leafed stirs.

Hermione let out a heated breath and glared at his back in frustration. "I could ask Professor McGonagall."

"Minerva will not tell you."

"Maybe not," she sighed, snuggling into the chair. "And maybe she won't have to _say_ anything."

Rolling his eyes, the wizard grumbled quietly. "How far have you come on your reading?"

"I've finished both books," she replied.

"I believe the assignment was to read them twice."

The witch snickered and pushed herself forward. "I'm almost through the second book the second time."

"The sooner you finish, the sooner we can begin the practical portion," Snape instructed.

"Yes, _sir_," she smiled, slipping out of the chair and heading toward the secret staircase. "I'll be back in a minute."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As the final charm sounded, Severus stifled a yawn and rolled his shoulders before completing the last required stir. When he was finished, he wiped off the stirring rod and then cast a stasis charm over the brew. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was nearing five. Rubbing his forehead, he turned around and saw that Hermione was still curled into the chair, sound asleep with her book lying open on her chest. She had not managed more than a few hours' worth of reading before finally drifting off to sleep.

Watching her chest rise and fall with the deep breaths of slumber, he rested his hip against the work table for a few moments before he began moving towards her sleeping form. As she did not wake at his approach, he removed the book from her hands, mentally noted her place before closing it, and then set it upon his desk.

Part of him knew that he should wake her up and send her through the Floo to the Gryffindor Common Room, but he ignored the notion and instead gently gathered her into his arms. Whereas earlier he had silenced that voice out of concern for her general well-being and uncertainty of the curse, he now argued that it was simply a matter of convenience. It was already morning; her things were still in his quarters; and she would have to return to his office unseen in a few hours anyway. Of course he forced himself to overlook the fact that he enjoyed having someone with whom he could share his space and the uncomfortable truth that he had spent far too much of his time the past week wondering if everything was alright at his grandmother's cottage.

As he carefully climbed the stairs up to his bedroom, the sleeping witch shifted slightly within his arms and snuggled against his chest. A nervous bubble rose from his stomach as he questioned whether he was making it worse. He had surrendered to her attempted seduction earlier because he realized that it had already been two weeks since they had renewed their bond, and since he was fairly certain that they had both spent time thinking about how she had kissed him, he had been worried about how the magic might respond to her unfulfilled request. As it stood now, however, the binding was fully satisfied and would remain so for at least another fortnight.

_So why are you further tempting Fate? The bitch has yet to pass up an opportunity to rake the two of you over the coals_. Severus sighed loudly as the bedroom door swung open at his presence, and he made quick work of placing the girl in the bed. After haphazardly draping the covers over her, he retreated to the lavatory to relieve his bladder, which had been protesting for the past hour or so. When he had finished, he slowly returned to the bedroom and began unbuttoning his shirt.

_I should send her to her own bed_. He frowned slightly as he tossed his shirt over the armchair and then proceeded to slip his belt out from his trousers. After discarding that, he leaned against the chair long enough to kick off his boots. He was too tired to bother changing into pajamas, so he opted to leave on his trousers. _Well, if I let her stay here, I should at least sleep on the sofa. I should –_

A large yawn forced its way out as his body interrupted his mind with its demand for more oxygen. Further ignoring the rational section of his brain, he crossed over to the bed and slid beneath the covers on the side of the bed opposite Hermione. Pulling the comforter over his shoulder, he turned slightly to face the wall and closed his eyes.

He was seconds away from succumbing to slumber when the mattress shifted faintly and a small weight fell across his torso. Peeking out from beneath one eyelid to see the slender arm draped over him, he snorted beneath his breath.

_Even in sleep, she can't keep her bloody arms to herself. _ Sighing deeply, he nestled his head further into the pillow and soon drifted off to sleep.

A few minutes later, a bandy-legged feline ambled into the room and leaped onto the foot of the bed. Gingerly stepping over his persons' limbs, he made his way toward the pillows and then curled up into a ball between their heads.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As Hermione descended the staircase into his office after showering and dressing for the day, she scratched her eyebrow and wondered if the dark-haired wizard ever slept. He had stayed up working long after she had fallen asleep and had already been absent from his quarters when she had awaken more than half an hour before. Granted, it had been noon already, but she was surprised that he had not waken her up earlier given the smug expression that had been on his face the day before. Furthermore, she was surprised to have woken up in his bed again – selfishly sprawled across it, actually – since she distinctly recalled curling up in his armchair to sleep.

The witch stifled a snort as a blatantly obvious sense of déjà vu washed over her. The Potions Master was dressed and standing exactly how he had been the night before when she had entered his office. For a brief moment she pondered the notion that he had never actually left that spot, but shook her head, knowing that he had to have had some sleep to still be functioning.

_Perhaps he slept on the sofa?_ She felt slightly guilty over the prospect of having displaced him from his own bed, but she reminded herself that he had been the one to set her there. He could have claimed half of it if he wanted. She would not have protested. _After all, it's not like we haven't spent time together there before. _

A blush graced her cheeks as she attempted to push away the memories of their return to the castle, and as if sensing that she had mentally delved into inappropriate territory, the wizard turned his head to glance at her. Clearing her throat, she offered a nervous smile. "Good morning."

"Morning?" Severus snorted, gesturing to the clock. "I believe the correct term would be 'afternoon'."

"Oops," she murmured, grimacing slightly as her stomach rumbled.

With a raised eyebrow, he shifted his attention back to the bubbling cauldron, but snapped, "Dobby!"

A pop resounded in reply to his summons, and the elf appeared with eyes widened in eager anticipation. "Yes, Master Snape, sir?"

He sighed slightly at the three poorly knitted hats stacked atop each other in a droopy pile on the creature's head and then stared pointedly at the girl next to his desk. "Fetch Miss Granger something to eat."

As Dobby enthusiastically shuffled away and asked Hermione what she would prefer, the man wiped his face and returned to his sentry of the potion. He looked up out of habit when the elf disapparated back to the kitchens and again a few minutes later when it reappeared with a number of dishes precariously balanced on his gangly limbs.

"Set them on the desk," he instructed, "and see to it that you don't upset anything."

The girl stepped forward with eyes widened in surprise and held up her hands in case the elf dropped something. "Oh, Dobby! I didn't need this much food!"

"Dobby is sorry," he mumbled, ducking his head as he finished setting down an entire stack of pancakes, a warmed dish of syrup, platters of bacon and scrambled eggs, and a bowl filled with assorted fruit. "Dobby only thought that because Master Snape, sir said that Hermione Granger was needing to eat more –"

"It's alright, Dobby!" she interrupted, concerned that the elf would punish himself. She glanced for a moment at the Slytherin, who appeared to be ignoring them, and then forced a smile onto her face. "I'll eat whatever I can. Thank you."

After giving her a toothy grin, the creature bowed and snapped into thin air.

"Well," Hermione sighed, sinking into Snape's desk chair and staring at the plentiful breakfast spread. "Since you've managed to convince him I need to eat as much as an entire Quidditch team, would you care to join me?"

"I've already eaten," he replied.

She gave a small groan and grimaced at all of the food that would undoubtedly go to waste. When she felt an expectant stare boring through her, however, she picked up the fork that had been provided to her and began loading a plate.

"When you've finished a satisfactory serving, we may begin revisiting Veritaserum."

"Satisfactory?" she mumbled after swallowing a bite of pancake. "Are you going to begin monitoring my caloric intake now?"

Ignoring her sarcastic tone, Severus crossed his arms and glared at the Wolfsbane. "If it should become necessary."

The girl frowned as she stabbed at her eggs, inwardly cursing her mother for mentioning her former affliction in front of him. "I don't have an eating disorder."

"Then it should not become necessary," he responded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

Blowing out a deep breath, she returned to the task in front of her and let him be for the time being. By the time he had completed another round of stirring, she was struggling to finish the last half of her banana. Eventually deciding it was not worth the effort, she sighed and dropped it back to her plate. "I'm finished."

When he turned and gave her plate an appraising stare, the witch folded her arms in exasperation.

"Alright," he nodded a few seconds later and set down his crystal stirring rod. Crossing over to his desk, he shooed her out of the chair and then reached beneath the desk to release a hidden drawer. As he stood back up, he caught her watching him in interest, and he raised an eyebrow.

Hermione smirked and dropped her eyes to the floor as she sank into her usual armchair. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Indeed," he commented, stepping around the end of his desk. Coming to stand in front of her, he twisted off the cap of the tiny vial and eyed her in deliberation.

"One shot or two?" she snickered.

Severus rubbed his chin and tilted his head. "I was entertaining the notion of three."

"Three?" Her eyes widened into saucers. "But I barely managed two!"

"Conquer three, and two will be of little consequence," he advised, filling the dropper with the clear liquid. "Remember that the stronger dose will wear off much quicker. If you feel that it is too challenging, we will return to two drops."

"How long?" she asked quickly before he raised the dropper.

"Approximately an hour or so," he replied. "Now are you ready? Or do you have more dawdling to do? I have another six hours to waste if you do."

The witch closed her eyes and snorted. "I can be ready."

"Very well." When she opened her mouth, he dribbled three quick drops of the serum onto her tongue and then pushed her jaw shut. He waited until she had swallowed before screwing the cap shut on the vial and dropping it into the pocket of his trousers. "What is your full name?"

"Hermione Jean Granger," she spewed immediately. "Fuck."

"Language."

"Sorry," she blushed. "It's just so strong!"

He nodded and moved back towards his stool so that he could still keep an eye on the bubbling brew. "I will give you a minute to develop an attempt at shielding."

Hermione nodded and slammed her eyes shut as she focused on the overwhelming sense of numbness in her head. She opened her eyes when he cleared his throat a short while later.

"What is your full name?"

"Unggahermione Jean Grrrranger." She winced and grabbed her head. "Oh god, that hurts."

Snape leaned his elbow onto the work table beside him. "It was an honorable attempt, Granger –"

"I wish you'd call me Hermione," she interrupted before her eyes widened and she slammed her mouth shut. "I didn't mean to say that aloud."

"Of course not," he smirked, resting his head against his hand. "Into which House did the Sorting Hat place you?"

"Grrryffindor, though he…c-c-considerrrred all of the other Houses," the girl grimaced, squeezing her eyes shut as she attempted to build a stronger shield.

The wizard found himself somewhat surprised by her response. "_All_ of the other Houses?"

"Yyyes."

"And what were his reasons for contemplating Slytherin?"

"He said I was c-clever, rrrresourceful, and eeeager to…prove myself, but…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to fight the compulsion to respond. When she felt her shields failing, she bit down on her tongue to keep silent, but the pull proved too strong. "I didn't have enough self-preservation and it wasn't yet time to upset the balance."

The Potions Master snorted softly and quirked his lips in agreement with the Hat's assessment. He eyed a large bubble with concern until it gently dissolved into many smaller ones, and then cast a look over his shoulder. "Where did you spend Christmas?"

"B-bakers….nggghh….f-field-d-d-c-cot…."

He watched her face as she attempted to hold back the information and when he witnessed her pinched expression as she became silent, he pushed off of his stool and rushed towards her. Grabbing hold of her chin, he pressed against the sides of her jaw and shook his head. "Hermione, stop biting down."

"Cottage!" she gasped as her jaw released and her eyes flew open. There was the hint of a coppery taste in her mouth and she grimaced at the stinging of her tongue.

"You cannot do that again," he snapped, maintaining his hold on her face. "You could very well bite through your tongue and cause serious damage. For the purposes of our sessions, if you cannot mentally divert a response, let it slip through. Are we clear?"

"Yes," she nodded, whimpering slightly. "I'm sorry."

"I have no need for an apology," the man remarked, letting go of her and returning to his seat. "Take a moment to rest and meditate. I will not ask any more questions until I've finished the next round of stirs."

Letting out a groan, the witch covered her face with her hands and sank into her chair. She ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth until it stopped hurting and then took several slow breaths. It was bloody near impossible to defeat the pull of the Veritaserum –

_"It will be more difficult to hold your shields in place, as you are the one ultimately trying to reveal the information. You will always have more influence in your own mind than an outsider can have."_

Memories and thoughts were spiraling around in her head like a tempest. It was a bit nauseating to say the least, and it reminded her slightly of being on the spinning amusement park ride her father had convinced her to go on when she was nine. She had screamed herself hoarse while he laughed, but he had not found it near so entertaining when she vomited on his lap.

"How amusing," Snape quipped as he picked up the stirring rod and began another set of clover-leafs. "It sounds as if you are enjoying your brief foray into the experience of Legilimency."

"This is what it's like?" she asked, raising one eyelid.

Snape nodded as he worked. "It is."

"It's bloody awful!" she cried.

He chuckled quietly and gave another slight nod. "Precisely the reason why it remains an underutilized art."

"I can see why."

When he finished stirring a minute later, he cleared his throat. "Are you ready?"

"Nope."

He rubbed his forehead and hid his smile behind his hand. "And what is your full name?"

"Hermmmione J-jean Gr-r-r-Snape!" she stammered breathlessly before collapsing against the chair.

Severus's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline, and it felt as though his heart stopped for a moment. Swallowing uncertainly, he gradually turned towards her with a questioning stare.

Feeling the tension descending upon the room, the witch blinked slowly and then glanced at his pale face. She flushed immediately upon realizing what she had said. "Sorry, it was the first name I could think of since you were standing right there."

He slowly nodded and looked away as he recovered his mental faculties. He then cleared his throat and arched one eyebrow. "Well, it seems you're making progress in resisting."

"Or the serum's wearing off," she added dryly.

The wizard glanced up at the clock and then shook his head. "It has only been half an hour. It should not have diminished quite yet."

"Oh."

Opting to avoid any further incidents with her name, he paused for a moment before deciding upon a different question. "Are your parents alive?"

Hermione winced at the question. "Ye-No. No. They're both dead."

A gratified expression suddenly appeared on his face. "Hermione, do you realize what you've just done?"

"N-n-yes? No?" Her brow narrowed in confusion. "I have no idea how to answer that question."

Severus smirked as he sat back upon his stool. "You've just managed to resist a full dose of extra-strength Veritaserum in under an hour."

"Extra-strength?!" she shouted. "You son-of-a-bitch! You gave me _extra_-strength?"

"I gave you what any of the Dark Lord's followers would have given you," he responded with an amused shrug. "I assure you that any Ministry-sanctioned interrogation will give you little trouble compared to that."

"Holy shite," she whispered, resting her elbows on her legs and then groaning. "Why the hell do I keep cursing?"

"A normal side effect," he smirked. "You are not as capable of thinking before speaking as you would be under normal circumstances."

She raised one lip in disgust and rubbed the back of her neck. "Damn. I can't believe that you didn't tell me that. I thought I was failing miserably!"

"Failing miserably?" he sneered. "I don't think you would be capable of that in regards to any topic. Have you completely overlooked the fact that ninety-nine percent of the population would never be able to do what you just did even _after_ an entire lifetime's worth of attempting it?"

"Yes! No! Damn it!" She ran both hands through her hair and shook her head. "Stop asking me rhetorical questions! I'm not supposed to answer them, but I have to answer them, and I don't know how to without sounding like a total idiot!"

Snape failed to stifle a laugh during her outraged rant. "Hermione, in six years you have never once appeared to be a total idiot, but I am sorry to have confused you. It was not my intention."

The witch stood up and blew out a long breath as she grabbed onto the back of the chair. "When _aren't_ you confusing me lately? For five years you've been cold and critical and condescending, but now you're apologizing and giving me compliments and answering my questions… and cracking jokes! Nobody would ever believe me if I told them that Professor Snape actually has a sense of humor! Or that he's a good kisser. Merlin, they'd have me committed for that. It just doesn't make any sense though. I mean, I used to be so afraid of him, and now… I actually like spending time with him. Some days I'd rather be here than with Harry or Ron – especially now that Lav-lav's constantly draped over his lap. Though I suppose I can't crow too terribly loud any more, can I? Not after last night. Not after –"

"Granger, that is far enough on that line of thought."

Hermione's eyes widened and all of the color drained from her face before being replaced by a vibrant shade of crimson. She looked to where he sat rigidly, digging his fingertips into his thighs as he pointedly stared at the cauldron instead of her. "Ohhhh god…that was all out loud, wasn't it?"

At his nod, she squeaked in shame and sank down behind the chair. "I _hate_ Veritaserum!"

"Well it has no great fondness for you either," he sneered, risking a glance in her direction. "Are you planning on sitting on the floor for the rest of the afternoon?"

"Until this crap wears off, yes," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

He sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "In that case, what was your Boggart your third year?"

"Professor McGona-g-gall…"

Severus waited a few seconds, but when she managed not to say anything else he relaxed his shoulders. "Yes, I imagine she would be quite frightening."

"Not funny," she mumbled.

"And what did the Boggart Deputy Headmistress have to say to you?"

"She said that…" Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she fought to find a suitable lie. "She said that I had been adopted and that I was actually a Malfoy."

He grinned slightly and folded his arms. "Despite the fact you can't hold your tongue, you _are_ improving at dodging direct questions."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that wasn't what she said?"

"Because it was a running joke in the Slytherin dormitory for nearly a week," he sighed.

"Prats," she whispered.

"Indeed," he grunted, standing up to tend to the bubbling potion once more. "I shall ask you again: Where did you spend Christmas?"

"B-ba-burrow," she managed. "The Burrow."

"Bravo."

The girl exhaled loudly and rubbed her head. "Can we be done for now?"

He nodded slowly. "If that is what you wish."

"It is." With a relieved sigh, she relaxed against the corner of the chair and closed her eyes. Though she was initially content to wait out the remainder of the serum in silence, her curiosity soon got the better of her. "Severus, can I ask you a question?"

"You may ask," he replied cautiously. "Whether I answer is another matter altogether."

Hermione picked at a thread on her jeans and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Why would Professor Dumbledore have chucked my letter in the bin if I had suggested improvements for your classroom?"

"I have been teaching the same way for fifteen years," he responded. "You can be certain that I receive dozens of complaints every year, but the Headmaster has yet to suggest the implementation of any such changes."

The girl peeked around the chair and raised one eyebrow. "Not even your blatant impartiality? Or exclusivity?"

"Quite the opposite, in fact," Snape smirked.

"What?"

The Potions Master inhaled deeply and finally turned towards her. "There are reasons behind my selective instruction. Potion-brewing is a very dangerous subject, and can be used for destructive purposes –"

"So you're purposely slanting it toward the children of Death Eaters?" she cried. "How can he support that?"

"For appearance's sake, yes, I favor them," he sighed. "Though I would ask that you consider the representative population of my Advanced Potions and NEWT classes before you get too terribly indignant."

Hermione narrowed her brow as she mentally revisited her Potions class. There were fourteen students in total, and from Slytherin there were Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis. "Less than a third of the class is from Slytherin."

He nodded. "And that is abnormally high compared to the other years. It just so happens that there were several individuals of above normal intellect in this grouping of students. You may notice that there is only one of my House in the current NEWT course."

"But…" She paused momentarily and tilted her head as a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Oh my god – you're _handicapping_ them! You hold them less accountable for everything in class, but everyone has to take the same OWL exam. And that's why you only accept 'O' students, isn't it? You actually expect to train us in the last two years, so you're attempting to further limit the number of Slytherins in the course."

"Five points to Gryffindor," he stated softly.

Her jaw dropped and she shook her head in disbelief. "Is there anything you don't do with a strategy in mind?"

"Slytherin," he reminded with raised eyebrows.

She laughed quietly and ducked her head for a minute before another question came to mind. "What did the Hat mean when he said I didn't have enough self-preservation to be in Slytherin?"

Snape blew out a long breath and stroked his chin. "I would imagine he was referring to your heritage. I do not see that you would have been willing to renounce or hide your upbringing, and as he said, the time is not yet right for an outspoken Muggleborn in the House of Salazar Slytherin."

"You mean there have been non-outspoken Muggleborns in your House?"

He nodded once, crossing his arms. "There have been a few during my tenure. I cannot attest to the frequency prior to that since blood impurities are not broadcast within the dormitory."

"Is there one currently?"

The man hesitated for a moment before giving an affirmative. "I tell you this only because I trust that you will neither discuss this with anyone nor will you approach or draw any attention to the student in question."

"Of course not," she agreed, picking herself up from the floor and reclaiming her seat.

He sighed and dropped his voice out of habit. "Davis isn't a Wizarding name."

"Doesn't everyone else recognize that?"

"They do," Severus replied, "which is why following my introduction to the new class of Slytherins, I asked after her father's health and inquired as to whether or not he had made any progress in locating his biological parents. Miss Davis was intelligent enough not to ask any questions of me until I could take her aside and explain the current social climate."

"I don't think I would have caught on that fast," she grimaced, shaking her head.

"Which is why you currently sport maroon and gold as opposed to silver and green." He rolled his shoulders and adjusted the button on the cuff of his shirt. "Besides, had you been sorted into Slytherin, it would have been much easier to establish your magical reputation."

The girl narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There is a well-known Master of Potions, Hector Dagworth-Granger," he answered. "As the founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, he has undoubtedly been considered a very noteworthy Slytherin alumnus. I merely would have had to point out that connection, and no one would have questioned your placement. Until you tried establishing the House-Elf Liberation Front, of course."

Hermione grimaced and relaxed against the back of the chair. "The serum's worn off, I think."

"I can tell." A brief quiet settled upon the rooms until he cleared his throat. "Why is it that you were relieved you did not have to face your Boggart in front of the class when you announced it to them anyway?"

The witch took in a deep breath and turned her face into the side of the chair. "Perhaps because I didn't tell the whole truth when Ron asked me. Remus is only one who knows what it actually was."

"It wasn't actually the Malfoy-adoption angle, was it?"

She chuckled morosely and shook her head. "No, it started out like I said – Professor McGonagall told me that I had failed all of my exams – but then she…she said that because of it I didn't belong at Hogwarts or in the Wizarding World at all. She said that she… regretted ever having offered me a magical education. It was a mistake, because I… very clearly did not belong here."

With a shocked expression on his face, Severus watched as she pulled her feet onto the chair and hid her face behind her knees. She had sounded exceptionally close to tears, and when he heard her muffled sniffles, he swallowed uncomfortably. Running one hand through his hair, he took a step nearer her. "Gr—Hermione…"

"I know I'm being stupid, so you don't need to say it," she mumbled, wiping at her eyes and turning her face away from him. "I just never had any friends before I came here. I didn't have any siblings or cousins, and everyone at my primary school thought I was too odd or too smart or too strange-looking to befriend. I used to always tell my parents I was going to run away to someplace that was different; someplace where they would like me because I obviously wasn't wanted there.

"And when Professor McGonagall was sitting in my living room, I thought it was the chance I'd been waiting for. I begged my parents for days until they finally agreed to send me, but it really wasn't all that different," she sighed. "Even here they thought I was odd and strange-looking and annoying. The only one who seemed to like me was Neville actually."

"Longbottom?" he queried awkwardly. "And what of the lesser two-thirds of your troublesome trio?"

The witch shook her head and rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. "They disliked me for months. It wasn't until the troll that they felt guilty enough to come find me, and then they started being nice to me because I lied for them. I never went looking for the troll."

"That much was blatantly obvious," he sighed, conjuring up a handkerchief and then holding it out to her. "It was a rather pitiful attempt on your part."

"It's not your fault," she whispered after accepting it from him. "I said it was, but you weren't the one who turned me into a liar. I did that myself because I just wanted to be liked. I'm sorry that I blamed you for it."

"Hermione –"

"And I'm sorry for telling you all of this," she interrupted quickly. "I've been thinking about this recently and I just needed someone to listen. I figured you might understand and wouldn't think me a terrible person for it since I overheard what you told Remus. I'm sorry about that, too. I shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but I saw you leave the Great Hall and I thought something might have happened, so I went through your quarters to speak to you, but you and Remus were quarreling. I should have left, but I didn't and I'm sorry."

Snape closed his eyes briefly as he processed her admission and then shook his head. "You do not need to apologize. I do not find myself angry with you."

"Really?" Hermione asked, looking up to meet his gaze. As he gave a nod, she bit down on her lip and hesitantly reached for his hand. A strange calm washed over her when he did not pull away and instead held her hand within his. He gently swept his thumb across her knuckles, but released it immediately upon hearing a gurgling noise from the other side of the room.

While he rushed back to the cauldron and yanked the stirring rod from the work table, the girl slowly pulled her hand back to her chest. She took in a steadying breath as she watched him tend to the potion.

At the feel of her eyes upon him, Severus glanced at her and dipped his head. "I do understand."


	49. Gifts and Curses

**A/N: Sorry for the delay! So much going on here...ughhh. Savannah asked yesterday if I could keep people updated on my writing through my LJ page - if there are a number of you interested in this, I can go ahead and do that. That might be a bit more regular than the blurbs I post whenever I can manage an update. **

**Thanks for all of the reviews and reminders. Just a heads up - I bawled a bit while writing this chapter, so if you're easily swayed - you may want to find some tissues. **

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><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 49**

"I'm glad to see you're looking better, Hermione," Minerva smiled, leaning towards her student as she took a seat beside her at the table. "Did you have an enjoyable Christmas?"

The young witch smiled and nodded until she had finished chewing. "Yes. And you?"

"Well," the Gryffindor Head tilted her head as she began loading her plate, "I certainly enjoyed parts. Unfortunately, though, I don't think I'll fully be able to enjoy a holiday until the dark times are far behind us."

Hermione gave a muffled sound of agreement.

"And might I ask where your gloomier half is?" she asked in a low voice after glancing about the relatively sparse table. Professors Vector, Flitwick, and Sprout were chatting at one end, while a Ravenclaw fifth-year stared at his notes nearer the center.

"Wolfsbane," the girl replied quietly. "I think he has three hours or so to go before the next phase."

"I see," Minerva nodded, grabbing her water goblet. "When did you return, then?"

A slight blush crept onto her cheeks as she stared at her plate. "Yesterday evening."

"And this is the first you've ventured out?" the professor queried before taking a sip. When she set the glass down, she donned a knowing look. "He sent you up here, didn't he?"

With a soft giggle, the girl smirked and picked up her fork again. "He said I was giving him a headache and that if I insisted on distracting him further, he would personally hold me accountable for his poisoning Remus."

McGonagall snorted loudly in amusement. "Of course he did. Well, perhaps you should spend some time in the Tower anyway. Since you've been away, your post has been piling up."

"Oh, I completely forgot about that."

The elder woman raised an eyebrow. "So I've noticed."

The two witches fell into a comfortable silence while they ate, until they were joined by a weary Remus Lupin.

"Hermione?" he stated quietly as he dropped into the chair across from her. "When did you get back?"

"This afternoon," Minerva responded before the girl had a chance to open her mouth.

"Ah," he nodded slowly, "I had wondered where Albus had gone."

At seeing Hermione's surprised expression, the Gryffindor Head cleared her throat. "Actually, Remus, the Headmaster is away on personal business. I went to fetch Miss Granger after the noon meal."

Lupin reached for a platter of food and gave a small smile to the girl. "And how are your parents? Are they well?"

The witch hesitated momentarily, but nodded upon realizing that the truth was now incredibly similar to the cover story they had asked her to perpetuate in front of the staff. _Well, Severus had certainly thought that through_. "They're both doing well, thank you. I was rather glad to see them."

"I imagine so," he replied. "In fact, I am quite surprised to see you back here so soon. There's still a week yet until the start of term."

As she momentarily floundered to find an adequate response, McGonagall cleared her throat and dropped her voice. "It was suggested that it would be safer for her to travel when not expected."

Understanding the implications of her answer, the Defense instructor turned his attention toward the large helping of rare steak on his plate. Hermione tossed her mentor a look of gratitude, and the woman squeezed her hand beneath the table in return. The younger witch was just beginning to relax when she noticed that Remus was staring at the pink cube of meat on his fork with a strange expression on his face. An odd feeling settled in the pit of her stomach when he leaned forward and sniffed it.

"Is something wrong, Remus?" McGonagall asked, eyeing him carefully as he moved his nose away from the steak and smelled the air instead.

The man frowned and glanced around strangely before responding. "Severus must be brewing the Wolfsbane, I guess."

As Hermione felt her stomach drop, the Deputy Headmistress gave a startled nod. "Why, yes he is. Miss Granger and I were just down there checking on him to see if he could break for supper. He's been at it all day judging by his temper, and he has a few more hours to go. Needless to say, he didn't appreciate the distraction."

"I bet not." With a small snort, Lupin began eating again, seemingly satisfied by the explanation.

The young witch managed a few more minutes at the table, but deciding not to press her luck any farther, excused herself and made as inconspicuous an exit as she could. Expelling a nervous breath as she reached the Entrance Hall, she only allowed herself a few moments' pause before ascending the staircase on her way toward Gryffindor Tower.

After a cheery welcoming from the Fat Lady's Portrait, Hermione quickly crossed through the vacant common room and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Upon pushing open the door, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight of her bed covered in packages.

"Merlin," she murmured, crossing the room and slipping onto the head of the bed where it was cleared of post. Deciding to leave the packages for last, she reached for the stack of letters and proceeded to read through them. The two envelopes that contained the heaviest letters were both from Ginny. Amongst other things, the first one detailed her frustration at having to hear Mrs. Weasley gush all over Ron for finding a girlfriend and her later amusement at the twins' development of a jinx that slapped Ron's bottom any time he mentioned Lavender's name, while the second highlighted her anxiety about the upcoming visit to Dean's house.

_Well, hopefully it went alright_. She sighed realizing that she should reply soon, if only to find out if Dean had made any further blunders. Harry's letter was somewhat shorter and mirrored Ginny's first message for the most part with an additional paragraph complaining about Molly's constant hinting that he, too, should find himself a pretty witch. Mrs. Weasley, herself, had written a verbose, mothering note – asking after her health and wishing her holiday greetings. Once she had finished reading those, Hermione found herself sniffling and blinking back tears.

Blowing out a slow breath, the girl set down her letters on her bedside table and then began sorting through the gifts. There was a small foil bag from Mattie that she recognized as being from the gourmet counter at Sugarplum's Sweet Shop in Diagon Alley. Upon untwisting the bag and peering in, she could not help but grin at the assortment of sparkling chocolate gems and ever-fizzing champagne truffles. Quickly stowing the bag away in her drawer, she made a mental note to do better for her roommate's birthday than a meager package of sugar quills, and then reached for the next present.

Of course, Ron had forgone the thoughtfulness he had shown for her birthday – _though considering Lavender's influence, I should count myself lucky to get anything from him - _and had resorted to his standard bag of chocolate frogs. She was somewhat surprised to receive one from Dean, but upon reading the attached note, she found herself smiling.

**_Hermione,  
>Thanks for single-handedly saving my arse. Guess we 'Muggles' ought to stick together.<br>I definitely owe you one,  
>Dean<br>P.S. I didn't know what you would prefer – and Gin would have been of no help in this situation – so I grabbed a bit of everything._**

_He's not kidding_. The witch shook her head as she opened the box and found it practically filled to brim with nearly every brand of Muggle sweets she could name. As the daughter of two dentists, she had never had this much sugar in her possession at one time, and she had a feeling she would be pawning most of it off on the boys when they returned from the Burrow.

Thankfully, Ginny had stepped outside of the confectioner's for her shopping and had found her a lovely set of ornamental quills instead. Remus had given her a handsome dragon-hide-bound journal that could be charmed to be visible only to her own eyes – she doubted she would ever use it, but it was the thought that counted.

The next three packages predictably held books, but unlike the journal, she had no doubt that these would be useful at some point. Harry had sent her one on advanced dueling techniques, and there was one on the healing properties of plants from Neville. Luna, oddly enough, had opted for a much more sensible gift than the year prior and had selected a large tome entitled _The Medi-witch's Helping Handbook_.

After quickly skimming through a few pages, she set it aside and grabbed a small box wrapped in shiny red paper. The attached tag indicated that it was from Professor McGonagall, and Hermione mentally groaned at having only given the Head of Gryffindor a nice card. Sighing, she carefully removed the wrapping paper and then popped open the lid to reveal a delicate silver bracelet consisting of several Celtic shield knots strung together. As she lifted it out and draped it over her wrist, she caught sight of the note that was placed in beneath it.

**_The courage, determination, and strength I have seen in you would have made even Godric Gryffindor appear a quivering coward. You are a true warrior. Never doubt in that._**

As a solitary tear trickled down her cheek, the girl quickly fastened the jewelry to her wrist and tucked the note into the journal from Remus. After wiping her eye, she reached for a sizeable package that had Mrs. Weasley's handwriting atop it. Untying the string and tearing off the simple brown paper, Hermione propped open the box and a burst of laughter escaped her. Five years of friendship, and she now had her first Weasley-jumper to show for it. It was a nice-looking one to boot – a soft shade of purple with a row of silver fasteners down the middle.

The witch absent-mindedly began fiddling with the amethyst stone around her neck as she realized it matched the sweater perfectly. Grabbing hold of the last gift in her pile, she froze upon seeing that it was from the twins and immediately set it back on the bedspread. Eyeing the box cautiously as though it may explode at any moment, she stood from the bed and slowly began pacing.

_It could be perfectly harmless, you know. They are capable of more than just pranking people,_ she told herself. _But it's still Fred and George! But, then again… they never have done anything to you beyond light teasing. _

Hermione blew out a contemplative breath and crossed over to the bed. She reached hesitantly for the seemingly-innocuous package in polka-dotted paper, but then paused again. If they had jinxed it, it was likely harmless, but she still had no desire to walk around with blue hair or hiccoughing multi-colored bubbles. She had heard Ginny complaining about having suffered both fates over the past summer while the twins worked to put their shop together.

_Perhaps I could ask Severus to check it before I open it._ And with that thought, her eyes widened as she realized that she had never given the professor _his_ Christmas present. Grimacing, she rushed over to her desk and pulled open the drawer. She shook her head as she picked up the small, green gift bag and could not believe that she had forgotten to give it to him before he took her to the cottage.

A glance at the clock assured her that the man would still be in his office watching the Wolfsbane for another half hour. She doubted that he would go anywhere but his quarters while the individual dose simmered in the silver-plated cauldron, and she knew that it was too much of a risk to allow Remus near the brew until it had been strained and placed under stasis. Making up her mind, she grabbed the twins' gift as well and made for the exit.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Ascertaining once more that Lupin's first dose was heating evenly and that the stasis charm was firmly in place on the remaining stock, Severus allowed himself a yawn. He rubbed the back of his neck briefly before moving toward the Floo. He tossed in a handful of powder and instructed that a connection be made to the Defense instructor's office.

"Lupin!" he shouted a second later. When the tired wizard's face appeared in the green flames, Snape folded his arms. "At ten-thirty, you may pop in for your nightcap."

"That's a bit later than usual," Remus mumbled quietly. "Is everything alright?"

The dark-haired man scowled and glared at the floor. "My attention was temporarily diverted elsewhere."

Assuming the worst, the bobbing head winced. "I'm sorry… but thank you, Severus. I will come down then."

With a stiff nod, the tall wizard moved away from the fireplace and crossed toward the staircase. He had almost three hours before the wolf would be scratching at his door, and he was fully prepared to spend them with his eyes closed. What he was not prepared for, however, was the sight of Hermione Granger and her cat lounging atop the bookcase beneath his bedroom window. He had been quite sure that he had sent her away for the rest of the evening so as not to risk Lupin picking up on her scent in his office.

"Granger," he stated gruffly. "What are you doing here?"

The witch glanced up from the rumbling beast on her lap and gave him a small smile as she gestured to a box with polka dots at her feet. "The twins sent me a gift, and I'm concerned that they may have hexed it or something."

"And you brought it all the way down here so that I may throw myself on the grenade?" he drawled lazily as he stepped toward her.

"No," she shook her head. "I thought you might know a way to check it for traps or something."

The man let out an irritated sigh as he produced his wand and began waving it about the box. "Even as drop-outs, they still manage to make my life more difficult."

Hermione bit down on her lip to keep from giggling as she watched him.

A second later, he sheathed his wand and held the gift out to her. "The box is safe. You may go now."

"Well, that wasn't the _only_ reason I'm here," she mumbled, displacing Crookshanks from her lap and slipping down from the bookshelf. She produced a green bag from her pocket and took a step closer to him. "I also wanted to give you this. I forgot to earlier, so happy belated Christmas, I guess."

Severus raised his eyebrows in surprise as he gingerly accepted the gift. He certainly had not been expecting that, and he frowned at it briefly before stealing from the room.

"Wha—where are you…going?" the girl stammered in confusion. Her eyes narrowed even further when he reappeared just as quickly and with one hand held behind his back. When he then produced a thin silver box, she shook her head.

"I, too, neglected to give this to you," he explained.

"But you already… spending the holiday with my parents was enough –"

He sighed and shook his head. "Allowing someone to visit their family at Christmas should not be considered a gift. It is to be expected."

"Not under these circumstances, it isn't," she countered stubbornly. When he fixed her with a pointed gaze, she sucked in a deep breath and took it from him. "I still don't think you should have done this."

"The feeling is mutual," he muttered, holding up her gift to him.

"Well, it isn't exactly special," Hermione sighed, climbing onto the bed and sitting cross-legged. "It's really just a replacement."

The wizard smirked as he perched on the edge of the mattress. "As is mine."

She waited to unwrap hers as she watched his long fingers untie the strings and then twist open the bag. As he extracted the slender jar, he rolled it over in his hand and then stared at her incredulously. "Powdered bicorn horn?"

"I still owe you boomslang skin," she responded with a slight blush.

Severus glanced back at the jar in his hand as he considered the admission, and then a roar of laughter escaped him. He continued for several seconds before wiping at the few tears of mirth that had appeared in his eyes. "Granger, are you actually trying to replace the ingredients you stole four years ago?"

Her cheeks becoming dangerously hot, she ducked her head and nodded. "I've always meant to do so, but up until now, I had figured that you were likely to kill me if you caught me doing it."

"I think the shock alone would have provided you ample time to escape unscathed," he replied, wiping his face in disbelief.

"For how long, though?" she queried, tilting her head. "Until the next class period?"

"Fair enough," he shrugged, setting the container on his bedside table. "But you do not owe me any boomslang skin. Seeing you with furry ears and a tail was compensation enough for your thievery. And make no mistake, Albus was properly shamed into personally replacing my stores."

Hermione smiled as she began to pick at the wrapping on her gift. "Well, I'm not about to pay _him_ back."

"I would not hesitate to dispel such notions from your head if you were."

Laughing quietly, the witch finished removing the paper and then the lid from the box. Surprise etched her features as she ran her fingertips over the small, drawstring handbag that was inside. It was made of several strips of silk and velvet in various shades of purple, and there were tassels at the bottom of the bag as well as the ends of the drawstrings. A few of the velvet panels were decorated by silver embroidery, while some of the silk ones were adorned with delicate bead-work. It would not have been something that she would have chosen for herself, but as she held it now, she really did like it.

"It's lovely," she murmured, glancing up at him. "But I don't understand how it's a replacement."

"_It_ isn't," he agreed, leaning against the headboard. "What's inside it is."

"Inside it?" she repeated with a raised brow as she undid the drawstring and pulled it open. She gave a small squawk of surprise upon peering into it, and she immediately withdrew the contained gift. It was larger – and heavier – than the bag it had been in or the box that had held it all. Confused, she looked toward the wizard for explanation.

"I've applied undetectable extension and weightless cargo charms to the bag," he answered. "You can store nearly anything in there, and it should never appear as or weigh more than the bag itself."

"Like Mary Poppins?" she asked in awe.

Snape frowned at her and shook his head. "I don't know who that is."

The girl chuckled and gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, it's a Muggle film I used to watch over and over when I was little. This woman – though I suspect now that the character must have been based on a witch – shows up to nanny children, and she has this carpet bag that can hold practically anything – a lamp, a coat rack, a plant, and so on."

"I see," he muttered, stifling a yawn.

Feeling guilty for keeping him awake, she quickly set into tearing off the paper. Her face visibly brightened as she revealed the newest edition of _Hogwarts: A History_. After squeezing it to her chest lovingly, she put it down and launched herself toward the head of the bed. Throwing her arms about him, she rested her head on Snape's shoulder and whispered against his shirt. "Thank you! I thought I was going to have to replace it myself. Thank you so much!"

"Ruin this copy, however, and you will," he sneered quietly, resting his head against the headboard and letting his eyes drift closed.

"Mmmkay," she nodded. She was about to pull away when she realized that he had issued no protest to her assault on his person. Deciding to take advantage of the situation while she could, she relaxed and held her tongue, not wanting to draw his attention to it. When his breathing slowed and his chest began to rise more fully, a mischievous grin spread across Hermione's face, and she closed her own eyes to join him in sleep.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As the timing charm sounded from his lab, Severus awoke with a start. There was an awful crick in his neck, he had lost feeling in his left arm, and there was a heavy warmth pressing against his chest and left hip. Upon glancing down at the mess of curls covering his torso and the rumpled pieces of wrapping paper strewn about the bed, the evening's events began coming back to him. The smirk that managed to creep onto his countenance was short-lived, though, for he soon remembered just why the timing charm had gone off in the first place.

_Wolfsbane. Lupin. Shite._

"Granger!" he huffed, shaking her awake and pushing her to the side.

"Wha-what?" she replied sleepily, propping herself up as he launched out of the bed and started rubbing his arm.

"You shouldn't still be here is _what_!" he snapped, attempting to straighten his shirt. Belatedly he stopped, realizing that it would be soaked in the girl's scent anyway. With a snarl, he undid all of the buttons and tossed it to the floor.

"What is wrong?" she cried in concern.

Snape fixed her with a sharp look. "Lupin will be downstairs shortly."

The girl paled and widened her eyes. "I'm sorry! Sh-should I leave?"

"Yes!"

She was just beginning to scramble up from the mattress, when he held up a hand and shook his head.

"No! No, I don't know whether he'll be Flooing into my office or walking, and if he's walking, he could intercept you from either exit." He touched the button on his trousers and then shook his head. "Christ, I'm going to have to shower."

As he stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, Hermione covered her mouth and then buried her face in the bedcovers. She knew that she should not find it funny, but she could not help but giggle at the image of the normally austere, controlled professor standing half-naked and absolutely flustered in front of her. It was additionally entertaining to note that when he was panicked, he resorted to Muggle expressions and mannerisms. Now that she knew he was half-Muggle, it made so much more sense why it seemed he had simply forgotten he could magically clean up an ink spill when she had mentioned her pregnancy scare.

A minute later, the door burst open, and she looked up to see a dripping wet Severus grumpily yanking open his wardrobe with one hand, while he kept a towel wrapped about his waist with the other. When he managed to pull out a change of clothes, he scowled at Crookshanks and then retreated back into the bathroom with a bang.

Hermione let out a short bark of laughter and pulled one of the pillows over her head to keep quiet. And when the door opened once more, she peeked out from underneath it to see the wizard confidently striding through the room, completely put together as usual. Except for the wet hair.

"Erm, shouldn't you dry your hair first?" she called out as he reached the back door.

"In a moment," he grumbled. "It will pick up the smell of the Wolfsbane faster when wet."

"Oh."

"Stay here," he instructed before disappearing down the staircase.

The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. "Well, it's not like I was planning to go anywhere else."

After a handful of minutes passed and no irate werewolf had come charging up the stairs, she decided to relieve some of her boredom by opening up her present from the twins. _Accio_-ing it to her, she took a deep breath and glanced at her familiar.

"I swear, if I end up with blue hair…" She then shook her head, knowing that her threat was empty – at least in respect to the Potions Master. He would probably be amused by the situation, but hopefully would aid in setting her back to rights.

As she ripped open the box, she held her breath for a moment until she was sure she was unaffected by any hexes. Feeling confident, she pulled out the card and read it quickly.

**_Hello Love! _**

**_Bet we had you worried for a tick, eh? No tricks up our sleeves! (This time.)_**

**_Since it sounds like everyone's been tripping over themselves to get your attention, we thought we'd throw our hats in the ring as well. Of course, whenever a high-and-mighty witch such as yourself lowers herself enough to use one of our creations in combat, we'd be interested. (We're only disappointed it wasn't lil Ronniekins who rubbed you the wrong way and wound up huddled over a bucket again. But then again, had he vomited slugs on Ol' Snapey-poo, we'd be short one annoying little brother, and Mum would be a blubberin' nightmare. Plus McLaggen always was a tosser.) So, if you have a favorite twin (everybody does!), just let us know. George won't be offended. (Fred might.) _**

**_Considered sending you one of the potions from our exclusive WonderWitch line, but we think you need more of a deterrent and less of a Love Potion (not to mention we've heard you've been confiscating our products left and right…cheeky witch) so we're including a bottle of U-No-Poo instead. Just crush it up, sprinkle it over his morning doxy eggs, and it's guaranteed to temper even the infamous McLaggen-amorousness. (Mum's not too chuffed about the name, though…thinks we'll be murdered in our sleep.) If it doesn't do the trick, pop us an owl and will put our heads together to find a better solution!_**

**_Anywho, on to the goodies. We've always thought of you as the D.A. mastermind (don't tell Harry), so here's hoping you'll find these useful and won't chuck them out straightaway, Miss Perfect Prefect._**

**_Toodle-oo!  
>Your Brothers in Arms,<br>Gred and Forge_**

**_P.S. If you'd like to give our newest charm a little test run, just say the word!_**

Giggling under her breath, Hermione set the letter aside and began digging through the rest of the minimized contents. In addition to the jar of U-No-Poo pills, there were three boxes labeled Decoy Detonators, a black velvet sack with a tag attached that read Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, and a few Camouflaging Trick wands that promised to adopt the appearance of any wand and would beat the user about the head when wielded.

Though she hated to admit it, there probably was a practical use for some of these products. With a shake of her head, she piled everything back into the box and then curled up around one of the pillows. Yawning softly, she decided to rest her eyes while waiting for Snape's return.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

When she awoke, it was to find sunlight streaming in the window. Frowning in confusion, Hermione wiped her face and forced herself into a seated position. As she was the sole occupant of the room – Crookshanks was nowhere to be seen – she wondered briefly if the wizard had spent the entire night in his office. The notion was dismissed, however, when she realized that his teaching robes no longer hung over the back of the chair and that someone had taken the time to tuck her into the bedcovers. The jar of powdered bicorn horn was absent as well, and her gifts had been moved from the bed to the bookshelf.

Though she wondered where he had gone, her bladder reminded her that there were more pressing matters to attend to. Sighing, she tossed back the covers and quickly crossed the room. As she stepped over the threshold into the bathroom, a tingling immediately erupted across her spine.

Giving a startled cry, she reached out to grip the edge of the sink and took in a stabilizing breath. Attempting one more step toward the commode, she physically flinched at the flare-up of pain that resulted from the action.

"Why?" she gasped_. I don't remember him ever banning me from using his bathroom._

As the intensity of the burning sensation continued to increase, she grimaced and stumbled back into the bedroom. Collapsing to her hands and knees, she took in several rasping breaths and narrowed her gaze when she felt some of the pain subsiding. Confused, she glanced wildly about the room – at the bed, the door to the stairwell, and then back to the lavatory. And then, she remembered.

_"Stay here," Severus instructed before disappearing down the stairwell._

Sniffling, Hermione used the back of her hand to wipe at the tears that had inherently formed in response to the pain. She sucked in a gulp of air and attempted to ignore the remaining throbbing in her lower back and the pressure in her bladder. She pushed into a kneeling position, and then leaned backwards against the side of the bed.

Gathering up enough focus to send a mental patronus, she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face against her arms.

**'Is it an emergency, Granger, or can it wait until I've finished my brunch?'**

Frowning, the witch attempted to assess the pain she was experiencing to determine how long she could continue to manage it.

**'For god sake, Hermione. I'm on my way.'**

She gave a pitiful snort and squeezed her eyes shut as she waited. Three minutes later, she heard the portrait door fly open, and a panicked Potions Master immediately appeared in the bedroom doorway.

"What happened?" he questioned, eyeing her huddled form with caution.

"I need to use the bathroom," she mumbled, raising her head, "but the binding won't let me leave the room."

Severus stared at her with eyebrows raised in confusion. "What?"

"Last night!" she stated loudly, gesturing toward the door. "You told me to stay here when you went downstairs, and _apparently_ the loo isn't considered 'here'."

Dismay rippled across his features as he sagged against the doorway. "Hermione, you may leave the room."

As the girl sprang to her feet and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, the wizard covered his face with his hands. He stood motionless until the door opened again and Hermione stepped back into the room.

"Are you alright?" he inquired after lowering his hands.

She folded her arms to her chest and sank onto the end of the bed. "Do you have that ointment nearby?"

Snape winced as he pushed away from the doorframe and crossed over to his bedside table. Opening the drawer, he pulled out the canister of orange salve he had stored there. When he gestured to her, the girl turned onto her stomach and lifted the edge of her shirt. He grimaced at the evidence of inflammation and gently began rubbing the cool substance over it.

"I'm sorry," he murmured once her top had been straightened and the ointment returned to the drawer.

Hermione turned her head to look in his direction and sighed at the pained expression on his face. Moving a few inches across the bed, she touched her forehead to the side of his thigh and placed one hand on his knee. "You didn't mean for it to happen."

"That does not excuse it," he snapped, attempting to pull away from her.

With a frown, she tightened her grip and pulled herself forward enough to rest her head on his leg as though it were a pillow. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he growled, pressing his fingers against his temples.

"Blaming yourself," she whispered. "I'm fine."

The wizard shook his head, and lightly placed his hand on her hair. "I promised that I would not be careless with our connection again."

"Severus, you didn't mean –"

"I do _not_ make promises lightly," he interrupted.

She expelled a loud breath against him. "I know you don't. But things happen. Everyone makes mistakes."

Closing his eyes and ducking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose with his other hand. "I cannot afford to make mistakes… _especially not with you_."

Swallowing nervously, Hermione was certain that he had not meant for her to hear what he had whispered beneath his breath. When she had gathered the courage, she rose onto her knees and touched his face. As he raised his head, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

"Hermione," he murmured, "what are –"

Mimicking his earlier actions, she silenced him with two fingertips. "I'm proving that I am fine and that I do not hold you responsible for an _accident_."

"I remember quite vividly that you did not react in such a manner last time," he muttered, pulling his mouth away from her hand.

"Different circumstances," she shrugged, placing her palm against his chest, "different reactions."

Severus glanced down at her hand and then back to her face. Sighing at her expression, he gave a shake of his head. "You shouldn't still be here."

The witch took a hesitant breath and shifted even closer to his chest. "And if I don't want to leave just yet? What if I fancy a late morning snog with my _significant other_?"

With a roll of his eyes, he averted his gaze to the window. "It can't quite end with a snog, though, can it?"

Hermione blushed and momentarily paused until she dared to speak softly into his ear. "Then I'll just have to settle for a late morning shag instead."

"Merlin," he sighed, covering his face with one hand as he tried to fight the stirring in his trousers. With a grumble, he snatched at her hand and stared into her eyes. "Why?"

"Why not?" she intoned with a quirk of her head. When she was met with a stony stare, she smirked and took in a deep breath. "Because… because you came to save me; because your brunch was ruined; because your Christmas gift was much better than mine; because it was my fault that I was here last night; because you checked my present for booby-traps even though I broke into your quarters again… but mainly because I _want_ to."

Though he could feel his resolve crumbling, he closed his eyes and frowned. "We cannot keep doing this. It's too much of a risk. Especially with Lupin beginning his monthly."

"But we're already here," she argued, leaning her weight against his chest. "What if I promise to spend the rest of the week in the library doing homework?"

"Dear gods," he grumbled painfully. "If you promise never again to bargain homework for sex –"

"Agreed," she winced. "Sorry."

He snorted in disbelief and then kicked off his boots. "Should I be concerned that the Weasley terrors have, in fact, managed to afflict you with something?"

"I don't think so," she giggled, slipping her arms around his neck. "Why? Am I making your life more difficult?"

"Exceedingly," he sneered as her lips found his once more.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Minerva snorted in frustration as her office door suddenly sprang open. Once she finished watering the plants in her window, she cleared her throat. "Oh, _do_ come in, Severus."

The tall wizard stopped abruptly when he heard a familiar chuckle emanate from the armchair facing her desk. He sighed loudly and then glared at the ceiling when Remus peered around the edge of the chair.

"Good afternoon, Severus."

"Lupin," he mumbled before crossing over to the fireplace and leaning against the mantel.

The Deputy Headmistress rolled her eyes at his behavior and reclaimed her seat. "Remus and I were just having tea. Would you care to be civilized enough to join us?"

"Not particularly."

"Well," Remus stated, quickly tossing back the remnants of his tea and setting the cup on her desk, "I can see that he is in need of your counsel more than I –"

"Hardly," Snape sneered.

"—so I shall take my leave," he finished, ignoring the other man's comment. "I might as well make use of my energy while I have it. Would it be possible to stop by your office after supper, Severus? I get more anxious the longer I have to wait after moonrise, and it shall be worse the closer we get to the full moon."

When the Potions Master nodded, Lupin bid them both good-bye and disappeared into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Will you take a seat?" she murmured, lifting her teacup to her mouth. "Or shall you continue to perch against my fireplace like an overgrown gargoyle?"

"Charming," he grumbled. Heaving a loud sigh, he pushed forward and dropped into the seat vacated by Remus.

She eyed him appraisingly while she sipped her tea and then cocked her head. "Let me guess, you're here about Miss Granger as well."

Severus glared at the door and shifted in his seat. "What did he –"

"More of the same," she interrupted dismissively. "Nothing noteworthy. Mostly he was just asking after her parents since he believes that I was the one who collected her."

"And who the hell told him that?"

With a smirk, she set down her cup. "I did, because Hermione startled when he assumed Albus had escorted her."

"I see. I appreciate that you followed –"

"Oh, come now, Severus," Minerva shook her head amusedly. "You really think I haven't been able to piece together exactly what's in that envelope you've charmed not to be opened?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You've tried, haven't you?"

"Of course I bloody tried!" she hissed. "You don't give someone an envelope, tell them not to open it, and then expect them not to try."

"I recall something about curiosity and a cat," the wizard murmured smugly.

"Hush." She squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Now, why are we in need of a therapy session today, hmm? And does this have anything to do with your sudden departure from our conversation at breakfast? You're lucky that I do not offend as easily as you do."

When he did not immediately rise to her bait, the witch frowned and leaned forward. "Severus, what happened?"

"Hermione…" he paused as he picked at his robes, "…snuck into my rooms last night…"

At McGonagall's loud snort, he trailed off into an irritated glare.

"Sorry," she whispered, gesturing with her hand. "Continue."

Slowly, he did as instructed, explaining what had occurred previously. When he concluded his summary, he took in a short breath and stared at the edge of her desk. "It was my fault, and she all but made it comparable to my interrupted meal."

The woman inhaled uncomfortably and rubbed her forehead. "I have a feeling that you're going to resent my saying this, but consider what you would have done in her position."

"What?" he snapped. "That doesn't… I don't… I would have –"

"Done the same thing," she sighed. "You _have_ done the same thing."

"I don't know what you're –"

"Two weeks ago."

Snape scowled and shook his head. "It's _not_ the same thing. _That_ wasn't her fault."

"She made a request, which unbeknownst to her, caused you great bodily harm. When she discovered the price, you tried to send her away and then hid the true extent of your injuries. Though she did not mean for you to be hurt, and you absolve her of all blame, she felt – still feels, undoubtedly – responsible." Minerva shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Tell me how that is any different than the current situation."

Failing to find an adequate response, he jerked out of the chair and moved to stand in front of the window.

Though a smug expression played at her lips, the witch sighed and shook her head. "There's something else about this that's bothering you, isn't there?"

As he grimaced and pressed his forehead against the window edge, she silently startled at the display of vulnerability. She had seen him miserable, injured, angry, and depressed on several occasions, but this was different. It was as if she was suddenly staring at the sullen teenager who tried to hide in the back corner of her classroom so many years before.

"Severus?" she asked uncertainly, rising out of her chair. "What is it?"

He turned his head slightly so that his eyes were shifted toward the floor. A long moment passed in tense silence before he finally spoke. "My mother used to say it… whenever she knew I had seen him hurt her, or when he was… _angry_ with me. She would say he didn't mean it. He _never_ meant it – he would leave her a bloody mess, but he never _meant_ it. It was always because he was drunk, or because he was tired, or because he was having a bad day, or because _she_ did something to provoke him… And then one day, it just … stopped."

Minerva steadied herself against the corner of the desk. "The abuse?"

He pinched his eyes shut and shook his head. "The excuses. She stopped saying it… stopped saying anything at all really… stopped fighting him. She just stopped."

"How old were you?" she managed after a heavy silence descended upon the room.

"When he finally managed to break her?" he clarified, risking a glance in her direction. He then swallowed heavily and narrowed his eyes in contemplation. "Six? Seven, maybe."

Covering her mouth with one hand, she closed her eyes as she felt tears beginning to form. "Severus, I'm sorry I didn't know."

"What could _you_ have done?" the wizard snapped before turning back to the window. "She would never have left him. She maintained her ridiculous pureblood sensibilities until the end."

"I could have done something about you, though."

He shook his head emphatically. "I was the only one she had. I would not have abandoned her."

"But you were a child!" she protested, stepping forward.

"So was she!" Snape hissed as he spun around. "She was barely eighteen, had next to no experience in the Wizarding world – let alone the Muggle one – and was raised to believe that a witch, even when at her own peril, is to respect and abide by her husband, who was nearly as old as I am now!"

Her eyes widened in realization. "That's what's bothering you about Hermione, isn't it? It's never just been because she's your student, has it?"

Snape sighed and sank back against the wall. "It was worse in the beginning, but there are still… _times_ when I look at her –when she says or does something – and I see my mother. I wanted her to hate me because… because _she_ never hated _him_."

"Oh, Severus…" she reassured, reaching for his face.

He twitched slightly at her touch before whispering, "I don't want to be him."

"I know." McGonagall nodded as she stroked her thumb over his cheek. She could see the fear written in his eyes and her stomach twisted in response. Brushing a strand of hair out of his face with her other hand, she fixed him with a steady gaze. "You don't want to hurt her, and I think that sets you apart from the start."

"And if that's not enough?"

"You're torturing yourself over a what-if," she chided as she took a step back from him. "I know you, Severus – you'll make it enough."

The wizard inhaled deeply and straightened to his full height. "If Lupin wants his brew for dessert, I need to tend to it now. We wouldn't want him anxious, lest we find him gnawing on Mrs. Norris."

She snorted softly and folded her arms to her chest, recognizing that the wizard had once again donned his mask. "Remus can wait if there's anything else you need to discuss."

"No," he shook his head, "I've already said more than I ever intended."

"I realize that, yes," she smirked, patting his arm, "but I appreciate that you have."

Severus grunted uncomfortably and made his way toward the door. Pausing with his hand on the door knob, he glanced over his shoulder. "Thank you, Minerva."

The witch offered him a small smile and a nod. When the door closed behind him, however, she locked it with a flick of her fingers and then sank into her chair. Resting her elbows on the desk, she buried her face in her hands and finally allowed her tears to fall.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione sighed as she peered out the darkened window of the library. The full moon was finally upon them, and she was certain that Remus was safely tucked away in his quarters as he transitioned. Though there had been a close call or two, they had managed to survive another month without drawing his suspicion. Of course, she had made sure to keep her distance from Snape's office and quarters since their last interlude, but they had accomplished a few meetings in the Room of Requirement to practice a number of the shielding and defensive charms about which she had been reading.

She was not sure if it was just an artifact of dealing with the hypersensitivity of a werewolf again, but she had noticed that Severus had been tenser around her than she had become used to. It unnerved her somewhat, but she had tried not to dwell on it.

It was hard, though, especially when the rest of the castle seemed to be suffering a strange energy. Remus was fatigued as he usually was in the week of a full moon, but Professor McGonagall seemed nearly as weary. She had not been nearly as combative as she normally was with Snape at meals, and even with the rest of the staff she had seemed more subdued. And Dumbledore had been nowhere to be seen since she had returned almost a week ago.

The clearing of a throat brought the young witch back to her present surroundings, and she gave Madam Pince a weak smile as she began packing up her belongings. After tossing the strap of her bag over her shoulder, she mumbled a quiet 'good night' to the grumpy librarian and exited into the corridor.

She yawned as she climbed the staircase, which turned into an awkward squawk when a fast-moving shape collided with her, knocking her onto her bottom.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she responded, glancing up in surprise at her best friend. "Harry? What are you –"

"I'm sorry, but I can't stop! I need to find Snape!"


	50. Dark Knight

**A/N: Wow...50 chapters. Never thought this would be anywhere near this long, and there's still plenty to go! **

**A lot happening in this chapter, so hopefully you won't be disappointed. Except I can already predict a number of you will be mad at me yet again.**

** I do have one question, though, if anyone would be willing to give their opinion: How do you feel about the Ginny/Dean sub-story? Originally, I had planned on it being more true to canon, but after writing it, I'm starting to think Dean really got a bit of the shaft (not as much as Severus, but still!). So now I'm torn, especially since it's not super relevant to the overall plot and it could go either way.**

**Looking forward to your reviews!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 50**

"Professor Snape?" she mumbled, scrambling to her feet and jogging after him down the staircase. "Why? What are you doing here? Why aren't you at the Burrow?"

"I don't have time!" Harry barked, shaking off her hand when she grabbed his shoulder. "Dumbledore needs him, but he didn't answer his Floo, so I'm supposed to check the library!"

"The library's closed, Harry!" she shouted. "Professor Snape isn't there!"

"How do _you_ know?" he snapped.

"Because I was just _there_!" Hermione stopped abruptly as she realized why Dumbledore sent him to the library. _Because I was there and I can find him._

Stubbornly refusing to take her word for it, the boy sprinted down the hall until he reached the locked doors. Kicking them in frustration, he ran his hands through his hair and tried to catch his breath.

"Why didn't he just send a Patronus?" she questioned as she waited for a reply to her mental one. "Or use Fawkes?"

"Because he can't!" he cried angrily, pushing past her. "And the stupid bird just died again!"

**'Yes?'**

_'Dumbledore sent Harry to find you. Where are you?'_

**'My private storeroom. _Why_ has he sent Potter?'**

"The first-floor storeroom!" she yelled, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him down the staircase. _'I don't know. He says he doesn't have time to explain. Something's wrong.'_

The boy glanced at her in confusion. "Why would he be there now?"

"B-b-because it's the full moon tonight," she stammered, "he could have been collecting ingredients."

**'In the middle of winter? Only an idiot would believe—'**

_'Just shut up and meet us on the East Stairwell!'_ she interrupted mentally as Harry gave a hurried nod to her reasoning.

A short moment later, the tall wizard appeared on the landing below them. "Well, well… to what do we owe the pleasure of the Boy Wonder's return –"

"Professor Dumbledore needs you!" Harry blurted out, his momentum causing Hermione to stumble into the railing. "He's been cursed or something, and says you're the only one who can help."

Although Snape's gaze had unconsciously drifted to the witch when she lost her balance, it suddenly snapped back to the boy as he made the last statement. "Where?"

"His office."

Without a further word, the spy spun on his heel and sprinted a short way down the corridor until he stormed into the nearest room with Floo access – McGonagall's empty office. Following closely behind him, the two Gryffindors managed to jump through the green flames just before the connection ended. A grunt escaped Harry's lips as he wound up face first in the dimly lit office with Hermione and her bookbag landing on top of him. When they finally succeeded in untangling themselves and standing up, the witch gasped at the sight of the Headmaster slumped across the seat of his desk chair with his charred-looking right hand draped across his waist.

"Albus?" Snape queried calmly as he swept across the room and around the end of the massive desk. Ignoring the panicked thoughts pouring in through his connection with the girl, he reached for the wrinkled left hand that hung limply over the armrest. As he wrapped two fingers about the wrist to ascertain that there was still a pulse, the Headmaster's eyes snapped open as though he had been roused from a light snooze.

"Severus, my dear boy," Dumbledore smiled oddly, "I'm afraid I've done something rather foolish."

"Have you?" he mocked with a frown as he knelt beside the chair. "I hadn't noticed."

The elder man grinned and patted his cheek. "How sweet of you to say."

Raising one eyebrow in surprise, the dark-haired wizard began waving his wand about in a diagnostic manner.

"Oh, hello again Harry; Miss Granger," Albus mumbled lightly as he peeked over the man's shoulder. "Lovely to see you this evening, but I think I must bid you good night."

The pair of worried students shared a glance and then looked back at him in confusion.

"Sir?" Harry ventured, stepping forward.

"Are they still here, Severus?" Dumbledore whispered loudly. "Or am I beginning to hallucinate?"

Snape sighed at the temporary break in his concentration and, without surrendering his hold on the Headmaster's injured limb, glanced over his shoulder. "Potter, Granger – the Headmaster would prefer it if you returned to your dormitory."

"No," the boy argued forcefully. "I want to stay."

"Harry," Hermione stated, reaching for his arm only to have it snatched out of her grasp.

Glaring, her friend shook his head. "Leave if you want, Hermione, but I'm not going anywhere! I'm staying until I know he's alright."

"Oh, I'm quite alright, Harry," the Headmaster claimed. "Run along now, and off to bed with you! Sleep is a wondrous thing!"

"But –"

"Miss Granger, please!" Severus snapped, cutting off the young wizard's protest. **'There isn't time for this!'**

Nodding in response, the witch finally succeeded in seizing her friend's elbow and pulled him towards the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of Floo powder and opened a connection into the Gryffindor Common Room. "Harry, come on."

As soon as the pair disappeared into the flames, the Potions Master silenced his connection with the girl and returned his attention to his employer.

"Good boy," the old wizard smiled before his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side.

"The fuck you do," Snape snarled, shaking the man's shoulder. "You don't get to kick off when you've sent the only witnesses away and I'm here alone, you cockhead."

"Five points from Slytherin…for language, Mr. Snape," he mumbled a moment later without opening his eyes. "I think… Horace would appreciate not losing the Cup another year, so don't…let me… catch you…cursing again."

Frowning, the younger professor grabbed hold of his chin and smacked his cheek. "Knock it off, you twerp. Dobby!"

A sharp pop sounded beside him, but before the elf could begin his normal greetings, Severus began barking his orders.

"Listen carefully, because there is no time for you to bollocks this up –"

"Mr. Snape! Did I not just –"

"Oh, shut up!" he hissed, turning back to the quivering house-elf as the Headmaster demanded the retraction of another ten emeralds from the Slytherin hourglass. "I need you to bring me three flasks of Wit-Sharpening Potion, two Strengthening Solutions – the turquoise variety, not the yellow, unless you wish to kill him – two Invigoration Draughts, a Fever-Reducer, and the entire stock of the Angelaureus Elixir. I also need one of the copper goblets from the shelf in Poppy's office, and a canister of the Burning Bitterroot Balm. Be quick about it, and be prepared to fetch more if it is required."

Understanding the need for urgency, Dobby disappeared without any of his usual gestures or assurances. As he waited, Severus glanced up at the bedraggled, whining phoenix and sighed. "You picked a particularly fine time to molt, didn't you?"

"Don't taunt… the bird…Severus," Albus mumbled softly. "He may… just…end up…"

As the wizard's words trailed off into an unintelligible slur, the elf reappeared with his arms full of the requested items. "Dobby was not wasting time with a basket, Master Snape, sir."

Snape grunted in response and hurriedly began uncorking all of the flasks of the golden-hued Angelaureus Elixir and pouring their contents into the copper goblet. Wincing at the limited amount of the potion, he snatched up one of the grey Invigoration Draughts and reached up to pry open the elder's mouth.

"He isn't being dead, is he?"

The wizard flicked his gaze to the side long enough to see Dobby watching curiously, bending over with his hands on his knobby knees like a small child. As he magically coaxed the brew down Albus's throat, the professor shook his head. "You would know it if he were. The castle would immediately go into mourning."

"Not quite yet time for that," Dumbledore coughed, his eyes fluttering open momentarily as the potion began to have an effect.

So as not to risk any of the Angelaureus being spilled, the Potions Master knew that the man needed to be more aware of his surroundings. As gracefully as possible, he convinced the semi-delusional man to consume an assortment of the more standard brews. When it appeared the Headmaster had regained a measure of lucidity, he helped raise the goblet to the wizard's lips and gently began pouring it into his mouth. After half of it had been imbibed, he set down the cup and began mumbling restriction incantations as he swept his wand through intricate patterns.

"Thank you, Severus," Albus muttered weakly.

The younger wizard sighed as he set down his wand and lifted the goblet once more. "Not yet. You're still on your way out."

The Headmaster gave one chuckle, assisting in his second dosing by leaning forward to meet the rim of the chalice. When he had ingested the remainder of the sweet elixir, he sank back against his chair and took a slow breath. "We're all on our way out, aren't we? It's simply a matter of how efficiently we find the exit."

"How philosophical of you," Severus mumbled before beginning another round of charms and chants to repair as much of the curse damage as was possible.

"Well, I've always wanted my last words to leave the audience stunned," he replied pleasantly, closing his eyes and wincing every so often at the sensations of healing.

A few minutes later, the spy exhaled lengthily and sank back onto his haunches. He rubbed his forehead in exhaustion before reaching for the container of salve. As he applied it to the three blackened fingers he had not been able to repair, he lifted his eyes to scrutinize the man's countenance. "How are you feeling now? Have you at least returned to the present decade?"

An odd expression flickered across Dumbledore's face as he opened his eyes and met the other man's gaze. "My apologies for travelling through time. But I do believe I may live a bit longer now, if you agree."

Snape snorted wearily and nodded his head.

"Though, I think 'how long' is a question you may be more qualified to answer."

The dark-haired man paused as he wiped his hands on his robes and then let out a sigh. He shrugged his shoulders lightly and glanced up at him. "Maybe a year? It was an extraordinarily powerful dark magic you've encountered. It's a wonder you're still alive, and to contain its effects is the most I can hope to do. I have restricted the curse to your right hand for the time being, but –"

"It will spread," Dumbledore nodded in acceptance, "and kill me."

"In a most painful and humiliating manner," the professor growled, pushing to his feet and stalking the length of his desk. "If I had been here sooner, there might have been more I could do."

"It was fortunate, then, that Miss Granger was capable of locating you –"

"A house-elf would have been faster!" he snarled as he slapped his hand against the desk, causing Dobby to squeak and dart beneath one of the armchairs. "Instead of sending Potter scurrying down six flights of stairs! He should have been capable of sending a Patronus even if you weren't – he's been showing it off for years!"

"I understand that you're upset, Severus," the Headmaster stated calmly, "and I am sorry for that. I recognize that I was not thinking clearly –"

"Oh, _that_ is more than evident!" Snape interrupted bitterly, running his hand through his hair. "Just what the devil were you doing with the brat that you encountered such an affliction?"

Dumbledore sighed as he pulled himself into a more upright position. "Harry and I… have been attempting to…develop an understanding of Riddle's mind by delving into his background. This evening we paid a visit to Little Hangleton and explored the ruins of the Gaunt family home in the hopes of finding something relevant to our studies. It was there that I happened upon a most intriguing ring, which, upon putting on, I discovered carried the curse."

The spy stared at him with a mixed expression of incredulity and repulsion for several seconds before shaking his head. "Why? _Why_ would you have _ever_ put it on? Surely you must have considered it might have been cursed – you were in the Dark Lord's house for fuck's sake! Why would you have even gone _near_ it?"

"I admit that I was a fool," he sighed, ducking his head. "You above all people should understand the ease with which someone might be tempted by dark magic, Severus."

Refusing to be shamed into submission, the Slytherin leaned forward and placed both hands on the desk. "And what if _Potter_ had touched it? _He_ doesn't possess the same abilities that you do. _He_ would have been dead in an instant – just as that curse was designed to accomplish. What were you bloody thinking, pulling the boy out of the Weasleys' protection and dragging him around through the Dark Lord's ancestral grounds? Are you _trying_ to get the boy killed?"

"Severus, be reasonable."

"Reasonable? _Reasonable_!" he shouted. "_I'm_ not the one risking the fate of the entire Wizarding World on a piece of shiny jewelry!"

"Enough!" Albus roared, standing up from his chair and grabbing hold of his desk to keep himself steady. His voice dropped several levels, faltering slightly. "That is enough."

Hands shaking with unresolved anger, Snape bit back on the urge to continue yelling. "And what of the ring? Is it still out there, waiting to lure other feeble-minded –"

"It has been destroyed," the Headmaster interrupted. "I am deeply grateful to you for your delaying my demise, Severus, but I think I have had my fill of conversation tonight. Before I bid you good night as well, however, I must ask that you keep this to yourself. For his own sake, Harry cannot know that I am anything but slightly disfigured, and I will do everything that I can in the limited time I have left. Now, I think it is time for us both to get some rest."

"Dobby," the professor hissed.

"Yes, Master Snape, sir?" the elf squeaked brightly as he stepped forward from behind the chair.

"See to it that he makes it to his bed without falling down the stairs and breaking his neck."

As the large-eyed creature boisterously agreed to the task, Dumbledore donned a small smile. "Good night, Severus."

With a forced dip of his head, the man spun on his heel and stalked over to the fireplace, quickly disappearing into the flames.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Let go of me!" Harry snapped, yanking out of her grasp as soon as they spun out into the Gryffindor Common Room. He glared at the fireplace, knowing that the Floo only functioned as an entrance when a staff member was not present, and then rounded on his friend. "_Why_ did you do that? Because _Snape_ told you? Afraid he'd put you in detention again? Take away your precious points?"

Hermione took a step back as she stared at his snarling face in shock. "No… because _Dumbledore_ asked us to leave –"

"But he needed help!" he shouted.

"Which is why he sent you to get Professor Snape," she stated slowly, eying his behavior with caution. "He's going to do everything he can to help Dumbledore."

"_Sure_ he will," the boy growled. "And Voldemort's going to send flowers to the fucking funeral."

"Harry –" she started as he shoved past her toward the staircase into the boys' dormitory. Letting her bookbag fall to the ground, she trailed after him. "Harry, wait! Please talk to me. Please, this isn't like you!"

As though he did not hear her protests, the boy continued mounting the staircase and then threw open the door to the room housing the sixth years. He punched one of the posts of his bed before sinking onto his mattress. His expression of anger then gradually faded into one of pale sadness, and he curled up into a ball.

"Harry?" Hermione attempted, slowly approaching the bed. "Are you alright?"

When he did not answer and simply continued staring at the wall, she frowned and paused at the side of his bed.

"Harry, please talk to me," she whispered.

"There's nothing to talk about."

The witch narrowed her brow and perched on the edge of the mattress. "What about what happened?"

The boy inched away from her and tightened his arms around his waist. "I can't talk about that."

"But –"

"I agreed not to ask you about your secrets," he muttered. "The decent thing you could do is to do the same."

Blowing out an irritated breath, the witch slouched slightly and glanced about the room. When her gaze was drawn by the blur of movement coming from his nightstand, she bit her lip hesitantly and reached for the framed photograph of his parents dancing in front of a stone fountain. The James Potter that appeared in the picture seemed so different than the image that had developed in her head after discovering how he had treated Severus during their schooling. The smiling man did not seem capable of such cruelty, but, then again, she had seen firsthand two very different sides to both Sirius Black and Severus Snape.

_And Harry, too, for that matter._ Hermione glanced concernedly at the rigidly silent boy lying beside her before returning her attention to the photograph and its other occupant. There was no denying that Lily Potter – _or was she still Evans here?_ – was beautiful as she laughed and smiled at the camera. Her green eyes were even more striking than Harry's as they were not hidden behind eyeglasses or unruly, dark hair. Instead, they were highlighted by her hair – so deep a shade of red that it could almost be considered auburn – which hung past her shoulders and twirled about her face when the pair spun.

With a deep sigh, the girl fingered the end of her own frizzy hair. The only time she had managed to tame it into something remotely elegant had been for the Yule Ball two years prior, and she knew it would probably take an entire vat of Sleekeazy's to attempt the naturally smooth waves that Lily had worn in other pictures. The sleek, straight locks the redhead had adopted in this particular image were entirely out of the question, and the only way Hermione's hair would glide through the air like that would be in the midst of gale force winds.

Abandoning all hope on the hair front, she shifted her inspection to the deceased witch's other physical attributes. Lily appeared to be tall, though it was hard to tell from the single photograph with only James Potter for reference. _Though Harry _is_ relatively shorter than the rest of the boys, so perhaps it isn't too out of line to suppose that his parents were not any taller? Maybe she wasn't any taller than I am…_

Not quite believing the thought, Hermione noted that while the other woman was nearly as slender as herself, she was noticeably shapelier and had more feminine features. And though they were both of a similarly pale complexion, Lily did not appear to be afflicted with an annoying smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, nor did she have intensely dark eyebrows that only served to accentuate an angular jawline and cheek bones.

After setting the framed photograph back where it sat on the bedside table, the girl glumly stared down at her hands. It was no wonder that Severus had cared for her so strongly. In addition to her beauty, both Remus and Sirius had claimed that Lily had been kind, intelligent, and talented.

_And if she had been his only true friend to top it all off…_ She closed her eyes in a grimace as she recalled the happy look that had been on Snape's face when he spoke of their friendship. _It's not fair. What could I possibly have done to deserve –_

"Hermione."

The witch startled slightly as she snapped out of her thoughts and then glanced at her friend. "What?"

"Why are you still here?"

She wrapped her arms about her torso, unnerved by the coldness of his tone. "I was just –"

"Go away."

"But –"

"GET OUT!" the boy screamed, pushing onto his elbows so that he could face her.

Eyes widened, Hermione jerked to her feet and stared at his dark expression in fear. And then in the blink of an eye, it disappeared once again into sorrowed exhaustion, and Harry slumped back against the mattress.

"Please, just go away," he muttered.

Nodding hesitantly, she made her way to the door, glancing back at him uncertainly before exiting the room. As she descended the staircase, she blew out a panicked breath and placed her hands against her forehead. She had seen Harry get angry before, and he had seemed to momentarily lose control of himself a few times, but it had never been like that. She had never been frightened by him, but the look that had been in his eyes had caused her stomach to twist and her hair to stand on end.

_It's almost as if he were… possessed._ The witch shuddered as she stepped into the empty Common Room and ran her hands along her arms. She was just about to send Severus a mental patronus to ask if it was even remotely plausible when she remembered why everything had blown up in the first place. Dumbledore was injured, possibly even dying, and Snape was busy trying to save him. If she were to interrupt him, and he became distracted, he really could kill the Headmaster and ruin everything.

Resolving herself not to contact him and risk that actually happening, she sank onto one of the sofas and pulled her knees up against her chest. Shame flooded her system as she realized that while all of this was happening, she was pettily comparing herself to a dead woman. It had been something, though, that had been weighing on her mind during the past few days, and when she had seen the picture, it had all come back to her.

When she had been in the Owlery, sending off a reply to Ginny, she had started thinking about how Dean acted around her friend. He had been a bit dense at times, undoubtedly, but whenever he had understood Ginny's suggestive hints – or had them spelled out for him – he had practically tripped over himself while dragging her off to someplace private. And Ron never seemed to need to be asked – or to have privacy, for that matter – for Lavender barely had to touch him for him to be all over her.

With Snape, however, it had been like pulling teeth. Twice now Hermione had had to coax him into intimacy, and even then it had seemed like he was humoring her. She understood that he had issues with seeing her as a student – it was not exactly easy forgetting that he was her professor – but she had thought they had worked through some of that. She had done everything she could think of to dissuade appearing as a student when in private – minus her one slip-up earlier that week – and yet he was still so resistant to the idea of being with her. It was not as though she were expecting him to behave like a randy teenaged boy around her, but it would be nice to know that he bore some attraction for her. Though after having actually examined Lily's appearance, the girl found herself a bit less hopeful in that regard.

Blowing out a deep breath, she shook her head and ran her hands over her face. _Honestly, Hermione – this isn't the time for self-pity. There are more important things to be concerned about!_

As the witch stood from her seat, she smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans and then sent her bag up to her room with a quick swish of her wand. Taking in a steadying breath, she moved once again to the stairs into the boys' dormitory and made her way up to check on Harry. When she noted with relief that the boy had fallen asleep and looked much more like his normal self, she slowly descended back to the Common Room and stared at the fire for several minutes.

It was incredibly late, but Hermione knew she would never be able to sleep until she had a better idea of what was happening. With a soft sigh, she continued on to the exit, deciding she would be less anxious while waiting elsewhere.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The Floo connection had barely closed before the first silent hex left the tip of Snape's wand. As his sofa exploded into pieces, he kicked the end table, sending a pile of half-graded essays scattering across the floor. With a growl, he grabbed hold of the nearest glass object – a lamp that sat atop a small shelf – and hurled it into the fireplace. A glass tumbler soon joined it, followed quickly by the bottle of firewhiskey.

Realizing belatedly that he had just destroyed his entire personal supply of booze, Severus let out a heated sigh and sagged against the mantel, holding his forehead in his hands. He took in several deep breaths in order to reign in his temper until he recognized the sound of his portrait door opening. Spinning around with his wand extended, he faltered slightly at seeing Hermione jump in response.

As the door closed behind her, the witch's eyes quickly raked over the damage to his quarters. Her face was pale and her expression hesitant when she finally met his gaze.

"Hermione," he started, lowering his wand and straightening into a less defensive stance.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here," she murmured, glancing once more at the pile of rubble where the leather sofa had been, "but I don't really know where I should be."

"With Potter, perhaps?"

The girl sighed and folded her arms to her chest. "He, erm… asked to be left alone. Besides, he's sleeping now."

"As should _you_ be," he replied gruffly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Hermione frowned, wisely opting not to return the sentiment. Instead, she watched silently for several seconds, piecing together the obvious signs of his anger into the only logical conclusion she could come to. Swallowing heavily, she dropped her voice to practically a whisper. "He's dying, isn't he? Dumbledore is dying."

Without warning, Severus punched the end of the mantelpiece before returning to his earlier position.

Taking that as a confirmation of her fears, she wiped at the corners of her eyes and pulled out her wand. After she silently restored the couch to its former state, she stowed her wand away and cautiously crept towards the wizard. Tentatively, she touched a hand to his back, and when he responded with nothing more than a slight flinch, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead between his shoulder blades. After a lengthy moment, she turned her head so that her cheek rested against his spine and then slipped her arms around his torso.

Eventually the man withdrew from her grasp and stepped away from the fireplace. Scowling at the sight of his repaired sofa, he crossed his arms. "I was going to fix it myself."

"Oh," she shrugged, uncertain as to what else should be said. Noticing the papers strewn across his floor, she made to take out her wand once more when he gave a gravelly shout.

"No!" With a few flicks of his own wand, he gathered up the essays and banished the pile back to the desk in his office.

The girl stared at him oddly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wasn't going to look at them if that's what you're worried about."

Shaking his head, Snape sank onto the sofa and rubbed his face with his hands. "It was _my_ mess. I don't need _you_ cleaning up after me."

"Okay…" she stated slowly, confusion evident in her tone. Since the boys only complained when she asked them to tidy up, she could not quite fathom as to why he was upset with her for doing it now. _It wasn't as if I thought he was incapable of doing it himself. I just thought I could help._

When a tense silence fell upon the room, Hermione slowly descended onto the cushion beside him. Pulling her feet up, she leaned her side against the back of the sofa so that she sat perpendicular to the wizard. After chewing on her bottom lip for a moment, she wrapped her arms around her waist. "Severus… what happened?"

At her question, he grimaced and turned his head to stare at the wall opposite her. A minute ticked by while he grappled with himself, torn between Dumbledore's request for privacy and her earlier request for honesty. Finally, he decided that she had already pieced together the worst of it and might as well hear the rest. "The Headmaster has asked that I not speak of this with anyone, so I must ask the same of you. It is critical that the Dark Lord does not learn of his sudden frailty."

"So he's dying, but no one is to know?" she murmured in disbelief. "But Harry…the Order…they need to be prepared! They can't just –"

The wizard held up a hand, effectively interrupting her protest. "There have always been measures in place within the Order to continue on in the event of Dumbledore's death. An army that cannot reorganize after the loss of its leader is not an effective force. And rest assured the Headmaster will be doing everything he can to prepare Potter in the coming months."

"But how many months _are_ there?" she argued with a scowl on her face. "Harry isn't ready! There's no possible way he will be ready to face Volde—

"Granger, I will not ask you again to not use that name."

"Fine," she snapped, amending her previous statement. "Harry cannot possibly be ready to face _the Dark Lord_ in the matter of a few months. And you know that's when _the Dark Lord_ will be likely to strike – when Dumbledore is gone, and the Order is at its weakest."

Snape pinched his eyes shut and dipped his head. "I have realized this, yes. But he will strike sooner if he suspects that Dumbledore has been significantly weakened, and at this point in time, you and I are the only ones capable of protecting that information."

Her anger deflating at the reality of the situation, the witch sagged slightly and pressed her face against the back of the sofa. "How…how did this happen?"

Letting out a mournful sigh, the man leaned forward and focused his unwavering stare at the fire while he softly recounted the night's events. When he had finished, he glanced over his shoulder to meet her glittering gaze.

"Why?" Hermione hissed. "_Why_ would he take Harry there?"

He shook his head. "As I told you before, there are things the Headmaster does not yet trust in me enough to disclose. I suspect there must be something – some relic or trinket or knowledge – of the Dark Lord's that he seeks to find."

Falling silent, the girl picked at a spot on her jeans for a moment before finally deciding to voice her concerns. "The curse on the ring…could that have affected Harry as well?"

"Had he touched the ring, he would more than likely be presently deceased," he muttered as he eyed her speculatively. "Why?"

"When I took him back to the dormitory, he was just so… angry," she mumbled quietly. "I've never seen him like that before. He looked… the way he glared at me…it was almost evil. I don't know how to explain it, but it scared me."

Severus frowned and sat upright, scratching the side of his temple. "Dark magic taints the soul, and it is has been written for centuries that emotions and thoughts are extensions of one's soul. It is possible that Potter was temporarily affected simply by the proximity to the dark magic of the curse. If so, it would explain why he was incapable of producing a Patronus at the time."

"But he'll be alright?" she asked, re-folding her arms. "It won't continue affecting him?"

He shook his head and stood from the couch. "Removing him from the presence of the magic should have caused the effect to gradually diminish, and a night's worth of sleep should be enough to return him to his standard level of teenage angst."

"Should?" she repeated, an anxious look on her face. "So there's a possibility that something else happened? Is there some way to check?"

Snape let out a shuddering sigh and stared at the ceiling. As he muttered curses under his breath, he strode over to the fireplace and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder before spinning into the Gryffindor Common Room. Silently disillusioning himself, the wizard quickly made his way into the boys' dormitory and nudged open the door to the sixth years' room. A smug look appeared on his face upon seeing the Boy Wonder sleeping in a rather unattractive position.

Creeping into the room, he began casting the same curse-detecting charms he had used on the Headmaster earlier that night. When each of them returned the same negative results, he turned to leave, but paused when he heard a soft whimper. He waited for a handful of seconds until it occurred again and then spun back to face the boy.

Stepping up to the side of his bed, he quickly recast the spells in case he had missed anything, and when they were again negative, he frowned. The boy was paler than usual, with dark circles evident beneath his lashes. Perspiration was beading up along his forehead, and when his eyelids fluttered open briefly, Severus could see that there were tears forming.

The physical appearance, obvious affliction of nightmares, Hermione's description of his emotional behavior –it all pointed to the influence of dark magic, yet he could find no evidence of the curse affecting him. Momentarily considering the possibility that Potter was somehow witnessing the Dark Lord's mind again, the Slytherin reached one invisible hand out toward the boy's forehead and brushed aside enough hair to reveal the infamous scar.

"No."

The wizard froze as the syllable escaped the boy's mouth. When it was obvious that he was still asleep, the spy yanked his hand back and crossed his arms to his chest. The scar appeared no different than usual, but then again, he did not know if it ever changed when he was in close contact with the Dark Lord. Potter had always complained about it itching, but it was unclear as to whether the signs of inflammation he had spotted previously were a result of the connection itself or due to the boy constantly rubbing at it.

_But then again, _Snape contemplated_, if the effect was merely a result of proximity to dark magic, it wouldn't necessarily register as the curse, would it? _

With that thought in mind, he leaned against the nightstand, searching his memory for a spell that would reveal any slight traces of dark magic without alerting the boy to its use. When he decided on one that was likely to have minimal effects, he whispered the incantation under his breath and watched as a faint distortion of the moonlight occurred immediately above the lightning-shaped scar.

_Well, that's entirely to be expected_, he sighed, cancelling the spell when the young wizard suddenly moaned and grabbed at his head in his sleep. Content that there was nothing sinister – outside of the ordinary, or course – plaguing the Gryffindor, Severus pushed away from the bedside table, instinctively reaching behind him when he heard something wobble. Glancing behind him, he grimaced at the realization that he was holding onto a picture of Lily dancing with James Potter.

Guilt twisted his stomach as he watched the pair twirl about in the autumn leaves. Though he had never seen the photograph before, he surmised it must have been taken sometime during the month of their wedding. Lily was wearing her mother's jacket, which she had not done prior to Mrs. Evans's death the previous spring. He remembered seeing her in it for the first time at the cemetery as she stood with her family, either oblivious to or ignoring his presence at the very back of the crowd. Potter, of course, had spotted him almost immediately, and spent a majority of the time pointedly glaring in his direction and arrogantly slipping his arm about his fiancée's waist. Had it not been for the fact that the toerag had been on display to everyone who had cared about Mrs. Evans, Snape had no doubt the man would have worn a smirk worthy of any Malfoy.

Gritting his teeth, he noted that James appeared just as pompous as ever in the photograph – _even with what looks like a dead ferret on his face_. His disgust lessened, however, upon looking back at Lily. Though he hated to admit it, he could see that she had been genuinely happy then.

Until he had tried to prove himself to the Dark Lord, at least.

With a scowl, he set the frame back down and took in a low breath. He was just about to leave when the boy sobbed audibly in his sleep as he tossed over.

"Stop… Mum! ... No, please…"

As the rest of the words jumbled together into an unintelligible mumbling, Severus ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Raising his wand once more, he whispered the _Requietem pacis_ spell and waited until the blue wave engulfed Harry in tranquil slumber before he quickly stole from the room.

A moment later, he removed the Disillusionment charm as he stepped through the Floo into his own sitting room. As he brushed off his sleeve, he caught sight of Hermione staring at him expectantly from the sofa. Clearing his throat, he straightened to his full height. "There are no overt signs of any external influence, and he should rest peacefully for the remainder of the night."

The girl gave a relieved sigh and nodded. She wiped at her face and then dropped her feet back to the floor. "Severus? I know that I probably shouldn't, but can I stay here tonight? Remus isn't likely to leave his rooms tomorrow, but I promise I will leave first thing in the morning."

Snape swallowed slowly and then gave a nod. He was not quite prepared to admit it, but he had had neither the desire nor the intention of sending her back to her dormitory. He also held no protest when she rose from the sofa and followed him into his bedroom. And when he merely removed his teaching robes and boots before collapsing onto the mattress, she kicked off her shoes and crawled under the covers beside him.

"Severus?" she whispered after several minutes of silence. When she received a grunt in response, she turned onto her side and watched the profile of his face in the moonlight. "What's going to happen?"

Continuing to stare up at the ceiling, he sighed and shook his head lightly. "Albus will make the most of the time he has left, I am certain. If he maintains his sensibility, he will appoint Minerva as his successor as Head of the Order as well as Headmistress. She will continue running things – undoubtedly with better consistency than he is currently – and everyone will do what we can to ensure that Harry is prepared to defeat the Dark Lord."

That he used the boy's first name did not escape her, and she took it as another measure of the severity of their situation. Blinking back tears, she slid a few inches closer to him and curled up against his arm. After a while, she slipped her hand into his and closed her eyes.

Before she finally lost her battle with unconsciousness, she was vaguely aware of fingers closing around her hand.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

If there was one thing Minerva McGonagall was not, it was a fool. And she utterly detested being treated as such. Tossing a disapproving look in the direction of her employer, she stabbed her supper with more force than was necessary.

It had not escaped her notice that Harry Potter had returned to the castle two and a half days ahead of schedule, or that Albus appeared as though he had sat for some time with his hand in the fire. Severus looked as though he had not slept a wink the night before, and Hermione was exceptionally quiet as she currently poked at her food from across the table. And for some inexplicable reason, the Slytherin hourglass had lost a noticeable amount of emeralds though none of the students of that House were currently in residence.

Yet, when she had attempted to question him on what had occurred the night before, the Headmaster had simply smiled and told her that, though there had been a slight hiccough, it had been resolved so there was nothing over which she should be concerned.

_As if_, she snorted disdainfully and glared at her fork.

"Minerva," Snape warned softly.

Glancing at the man seated beside her, she raised her eyebrow in silent question.

"Let it be," he murmured, reaching for his water goblet.

The witch frowned and huffed quietly. "I find it hard to let it do _anything_ if I don't know what _it_ is."

He shook his head almost imperceptibly as he set down his glass. "It is not yet the time for you to know."

"And _you_ would be the authority on that _why_ exactly?" she hissed, snapping her gaze to his face.

"Authority?" he sneered while adjusting the napkin on his lap. "Hardly. Merely an unfortunate pawn on the master's board."

Blowing out a long breath, McGonagall rubbed her forehead. "You're much more valuable than a pawn, Severus."

"Perhaps to you."

She shook her head in exasperation and then fixed him with a steady gaze. "You _would_ inform me if _you_ thought I should be aware of something, wouldn't you?"

He cleared his throat and looked away for a short moment before nodding.

"Is that a promise I can hold you to?" she pressed.

Tossing his napkin onto the table, Snape rose from his chair. "If I believe your assistance is warranted, you will know. Until then, however, let it be. There isn't currently anything you can do to improve the situation."

"That isn't exactly preferable, but if it is my _only_ option…" She sighed and then inclined back in her seat. "Get some sleep, Severus. I suspect tomorrow will be a rather trying day for you."

His eyes locked onto hers in sudden suspicion. "And _why_ would that be, pray tell?"

The Gryffindor Head smirked as she tilted her head. "Did you by chance forget the start-of-term staff meeting?"

"Ugh, fuck me," he snarled, storming away from the table.

When he threw open the doors to the Great Hall and disappeared from sight, the witch chuckled under her breath. She had an inkling that the entire staff would rather regret having scheduled the meeting on the man's birthday again.

_Speaking of which…_ Minerva looked up and, seeing that Hermione was still despondently picking at her slice of roast, leaned forward with her elbows on the table. "Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor?" the girl replied, startling slightly as she was pulled from her internal musings.

"Would you happen to have a moment free after supper?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus let out a heated sigh when he heard the sounds of the end table being knocked into and books toppling onto the floor. Tossing the hand towel onto the edge of the sink, he stepped into the doorway between his bedroom and sitting room and glared. "Would you knock that the fuck off?"

The ginger cat paused with his mouth full of colorful feathers and blinked at him. With a twitch of his tail, he dropped the fake bird at the wizard's feet and then pranced over to the armchair to begin cleaning himself.

After frowning at the cat toy for a few seconds, the man moved to the end of the sofa and began setting the small table back to rights. When he noticed that the feline had found something else to bat around the room, he rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have _nowhere_ else to be?"

Crookshanks ignored him as he sent his new toy sailing under the bookshelf and then bounded after it.

Snape watched as the cat shoved his paw underneath the shelf in an attempt to fish it back out. He briefly considered getting it out himself, but immediately shook his head. The half-kneazle had been bothering him the entire morning, and he had no inclination to enable him for the afternoon as well.

_Perhaps he'll lose interest and toddle off._ He groaned a moment later when the feline managed to free whatever it was he was mangling and went skittering across the room again. The Slytherin had suspected some hours before that Minerva had managed to charge the nuisance with the task of driving him from his rooms, so he had naturally resisted. He had avoided breakfast and lunch in the Great Hall, refused to answer the Floo, and ignored any knocks on the doors to his quarters and office.

Unfortunately, he could not skive off the staff meeting without drawing more unwanted attention than he normally received on his birthday. Shaking his head, the wizard straightened his robes and then made his way to his portrait door. He knew better than to Floo in blindly to the staffroom should Minerva have violated her agreement not to plan a staff surprise party, and by the same token, he knew better than to be the last arrival lest they conspire to sing en masse. If he made it into the room before everyone else, he could glare them individually into silence and remove any temptation.

As he opened his door, he carefully checked the area at the base of his staircase. When he was confident that there was no ambush planned, he quickly climbed the stairs and performed the same cautious scrutiny of the corridor. He continued on in this manner throughout the castle until he paused on the staircase between the third and second floors.

Hermione was leaning against one of the windows, looking out onto the grounds. As if sensing his presence, she looked over her shoulder at him and smiled.

"Granger," he stated, narrowing his eyes as he slowly descended a few steps nearer her. "Is there a particular reason you're loitering here?"

The witch blushed lightly as he approached. "Waiting for Harry. He's supposed to meet me in the library to do homework."

"By that, you mean 'have you do his homework for him'."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Not this time."

"See to it that he does his own work henceforth," he sneered, moving away from her. "Though, I shall not hold my breath."

"Probably for the best," she smirked. "You never know when you might have to blow out candles."

Snape came to an abrupt stop and snapped his gaze to her. "What?"

The girl giggled and pulled herself onto the window sill. "Happy Birthday, Severus."

With a grumbled word of gratitude, he hurried down the rest of the stairs until he reached the ground floor. The man slowed his gait as he approached the staff room door, and peered inside before storming into the room.

"Well, don't we appear paranoid today," McGonagall quipped from her seat, earning herself a chuckle from Pomona who had been chatting with the Deputy Headmistress. "Any particular reason?"

He fixed her with a trying look as he chose a seat that allowed him to face either the door or the Floo.

"Merlin, you must be nearly forty by now," Sprout smiled. "You certainly look the part."

"And you, madam, must be nearly extinct by now," he returned, casting a glare at the Floo when Flitwick appeared and holding it until the diminutive wizard took his seat.

Minerva shook her head in amusement as she watched him repeat the process with Remus and Aurora when they stepped through the door. "Have you decided you need a change of vantage now that you're a year older?"

"Don't be absurd," he snarled, crossing his arms. "I am no more than three weeks older than I was during the last meeting – though I do not doubt I will feel as though a decade has passed before he sees fit to release us."

"And no sudden clarity of thought or insight has struck you since last we met?" she teased.

Pomona giggled at the exchange. "It is 'older and wiser,' is it not?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Then the two of you ought to be walking encyclopedias."

"Perhaps we are," the Gryffindor Head laughed, leaning forward over one of the empty chairs between them. "I do happen to recall, for instance, that Septima generally frequents that seat to your right."

His expression darkened, and he immediately pushed out of the spot. Stalking over to her, he yanked out the chair beside her.

"Oh, don't pout, Severus," she chuckled, patting his hand. "We won't sing."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxX**

After verifying that the ginger-furred beast had not destroyed anything further, Snape dropped into his armchair and closed his eyes. He had survived the torturous session with the staff and had even deigned to joining the other Heads of House for supper in the Great Hall. Reaching down for his bottle of firewhiskey and finding nothing but a book, he groaned upon remembering that he had set fire to it two nights before.

Resolving himself to make it through the night without sending the house-elf on a booze run, he rubbed a hand over his face. Eventually, he decided he might as well retire early and get as much rest as he could before the next evening's onslaught of students.

He had just risen from his chair when a knock sounded on his door. Sighing, he crossed the room and pulled it open to reveal his former classmate.

"Lupin."

The Gryffindor smiled lightly. "Good evening, Severus. Are you busy?"

He blew out a quick breath and shook his head, unsure if he was just too tired or too self-loathing to lie. Stepping out of the way, he allowed the other man to enter and mentally instructed Hermione to keep busy elsewhere if she had been planning another impromptu visit.

"How was your day?" Remus asked awkwardly as he took a seat upon the sofa.

Snape raised one eyebrow and leaned against the mantel. "I've had worse."

The disheveled wizard grimaced. "I apologize for not remembering that it was your birthday."

"Were you concerned that I had offed myself at not receiving a card from you?"

Lupin gave a short bark of laughter and shook his head. "Not exactly, no. Lately, I've been thinking about the conversation we had before Christmas –"

"And you've come to reminisce about our childhood," he interrupted with a roll of his eyes. "How quaint."

Ignoring the taunt, the seated man scratched the back of his neck with one hand. "I just wanted to tell you again that I truly am sorry for the way we treated you. I know that it probably doesn't mean very much to you now, but I felt like I needed to say it again."

"Well," Severus stated, glancing at the floor. "Now that you've accomplished that, what else did you want?"

"I don't want anything from you, except maybe to ask if we could perhaps start afresh," he replied quietly. When the other wizard did not immediately respond, Remus rubbed his hands together slowly and sighed. "I greatly appreciate everything you've done for me, and for Harry, and for… well, I thought perhaps we could put the past aside and move on."

The Potions Master drummed his fingers against his forearm and stared at his guest in disbelief. "You just expect –"

"Oh, Professor Snape! Marvelous evening, isn't it?" a boisterous voice called as the transparent figure of Nearly-Headless Nick floated through the wall. "A bit chilly for a birthday, I must admit, but lovely all the same."

Severus glared at the interruption. "What is it you need?"

"Well, I hate to be a bother, but I'm afraid Madam Minerva is in need of your assistance," the ghost responded. "It seems that mangy poltergeist was rather enjoying himself in the sixth floor boys' lavatory. The Baron is currently hot on his trail, but our lovely Deputy Headmistress is bit overwhelmed by the damage. She regrets having to bother you on your birthday, of course –"

"Of course."

"—but a majority of the staff have set off for the village for their own bout of last-minute merriment."

"I suddenly regret turning down the invitation," he grumbled, rubbing his forehead. _I haven't had enough torment today without having to fix toilets?_

"I reckon so!" Nick smiled before tipping his head. "I'll just pop off and let the fair damsel know that you are on your way to aid her."

As the apparition floated through the ceiling, Snape rolled his eyes and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. After he tossed it into the grate and stated his destination, he sent a glare over his shoulder. "I trust you'll see yourself out."

When Remus nodded and stood from the sofa, the dark-haired wizard stepped through the fireplace into the abnormally large and currently unused office of a former Defense Professor. He swore under his breath as he stormed down the corridor in the direction of the restroom, dreading the mess he was sure to find. Peeves was nothing but thorough when it came to clogging toilets and overflowing sinks. He was somewhat relieved, though, to note that there was no water running down the hallway. Hopefully, Minerva had caught it in time to prevent any severe flooding.

Barreling through the door, he stopped in his tracks as he could see that the restroom was as pristine as it had ever been. Minus, of course, the dozens of multi-colored candles floating above the row of sinks and the smirking witch leaning against a stone column.

"Tut, tut, Severus," McGonagall smiled. "What happened to your keen ability to detect conspiracy around every corner?"

"Forgive me," he muttered, glancing at the candles. "One does not generally expect to have their birthday party hosted next to the urinals. You, madam, have broken your promise –"

"On the contrary," she argued, stepping forward but keeping her arms behind her back. "I only agreed that I would not throw a surprise party with any of the staff or students present. Nothing restricted me from planning a private celebration. Now, you have thirty-seven candles to blow out before you earn your treat."

The wizard rolled his eyes and let out a huff of air.

"Well, that's not very effective, is it?"

Fixing her with a glare, he withdrew his wand. With a snap of his wrist, a gust of wind pushed across the space, extinguishing all of the candles and rippling her hair simultaneously.

"Cheat," she chided, producing a bottle of scotch in one hand and a sizeable cupcake in the other.

"Nothing restricted me from doing it all at once," he pointed out, reaching for the treat and eying it bemusedly. Plucking the decoration from the top of the chocolate frosting, he held it up between them. "What is this?"

Minerva shrugged as she uncapped the bottle. "It's more valuable than a pawn."

Severus snorted as he glanced down at the black marble chess piece in his hand. "A knight?"

"You move in ways no one else can," she commented, neatly pouring the scotch into two glasses sitting on the edge of a sink.

"You are disgusting," he groaned, perching on one of the stone benches surrounding the center column. When she took a seat next to him and set his drink on the bench, he attempted to hand the knight back to her.

The witch shook her head. "Keep it."

"You're breaking up a set," he reported.

McGonagall took a sip and then sighed casually. "It's from the board my father used to keep in his study. I doubt I'll find the time to sit down to a match any time soon. Besides, I know you'll take good care of it."

Grunting softly, the man wiped the bit of icing off of it and pocketed the piece.

"I would have invited Hermione," she commented a moment later, "but with Mr. Potter so soon returned, I figured it was best to keep her in his line of sight. One never knows when he might glance at that map of his. It may not display staff quarters, but the restrooms are undoubtedly well-documented."

"Indeed," he mumbled, breaking off a piece of his cupcake. "So you were the one who informed her."

"About your birthday?" she clarified. "Of course."

When he had finished chewing, he leaned against the column. "And you said something to that ruddy cat of hers, too, didn't you?"

She smirked into her glass and nodded. "I thought perhaps you would be less suspecting at night if you had spent all day wrapped up in foiling my plans."

"I wouldn't have fallen for it if you had sent anyone else but one of the ghosts," Snape protested.

"Of course not."

He shook his head and slowly chewed another piece of chocolate cake. "And did you send the wolf to grovel at my door?"

"What? Remus?" the woman asked.

"I take it not, then," he murmured, picking up his glass. "Apparently, he wants to use his penchant for digging to bury the proverbial hatchet."

"Well, that's something, isn't it?"

He closed his eyes as he swallowed a sip of alcohol. He then let out a long breath and narrowed his eyes. "I doubt it will last. He's always been easily influenced by others' opinions."

"Oh, I don't know," McGonagall remarked, staring at the wall ahead of them. "He appears to be capable of developing his own thoughts."

The wizard shrugged and began picking at his half-eaten treat once again. "Appearances can be deceiving."

"Mmm," she hummed in agreement. She was about to speak when the sound of the door slamming open suddenly reverberated around the room and jolted them both out of their seats.

Severus barely had a half a second to withdraw his wand before a heavy weight plowed into his midsection and the back of his head cracked against the edge of the stone bench.

"YOU GREASY, MOTHERFUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!"


	51. Birthday Bash

**A/N: I have a busy few weekends coming up, so I rushed to get the cliff-hanger resolution done and posted. **

**There was a bit of misunderstanding about what I meant by the Ginny/Dean subplot - I have no intention of going into any further depth than I have already. They are solely interacting characters, and will not be a main focus. But I think I have figured out which direction will benefit the plot, so thank you for offering feedback. **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 51**

"I trust you'll see yourself out," Severus stated as he glared over his shoulder.

With a nod, Remus stood from the sofa and watched as the other wizard stepped through the emerald flames and disappeared. He cast one glance toward the door that led up to the corridor and immediately sighed at the prospect of walking the entire way back to his quarters. Though he had spent the few hours after the staff meeting lying down, he was only too ready to attempt sleeping again. His body was stiff and sore, but the fact that his brain seemed to continue running continuously made it exceptionally hard to get enough rest even when he tried.

Shaking his head, the man decided to forgo the trek and instead crossed over to the fireplace. As he reached for the tin of Floo powder, he happened to glance in the direction of the leather armchair and noticed a few books stacked on top of the end table. The uppermost one was perched haphazardly in comparison to the other two as if it had been set there recently. Uncertain as to why it had captured his attention, the werewolf frowned, but returned to his current task. He was just about to step through to his own quarters when he realized the book seemed oddly familiar. Exhaling loudly, he tried to remember where he had seen it before.

_Hermione. She was reading that same title at the table in the Great Hall before she left to visit her parents_.

Suddenly curious as to what sort of book would simultaneously attract two of the most intelligent minds in the Wizarding World, he let the green flames die out and stepped over to the chair. A slight smirk played at his lips as he read the title, realizing that the volume discussed the concept of shielding and magical protection.

_So Severus _was_ right about that – she _has_ been reading up on Defense outside of the course textbook._

And then Lupin froze. There was a distinct water stain on the top left corner of the book cover – a stain which he was nearly positive had been in the exact spot on the book the girl had been reading. It was not just the same book they were reading; it was the _same copy_ of the same book.

Picking up the tome, he opened it and then let it flutter shut. His nose crinkled slightly as he detected the faintest trace of the young witch's scent. He knew for a fact that it was not a volume that was housed in the Hogwarts Library as he had personally requested from Madam Pince a list of all of the Defense-related material available to the student body. _Which means it has to be her book. So why the hell does Severus have it? Did he confiscate it from her? Why would he? It's not a banned book or a Dark Arts text – quite the opposite, actually. Or maybe she had left it somewhere, and he found it? He may not have known whose it was._

As he pondered the question, the wizard crossed his arms and stared at the edge of the rug for a moment. It was not until several seconds later that he realized there was something red poking out from beneath the sofa. Bending down, he reached out and snagged the small object.

His eyebrows narrowed considerably upon looking at the hair binder in his hand. In twenty-five years, he had only seen Severus tie his hair back a handful of times – all of which had been at Lily's playful insistence and had elicited immediate ridicule from James and Sirius. Remus very much doubted that the dour wizard would willingly do it on his own. And even if he did, it was highly unlikely to be with a vibrantly red one.

Nor was it likely to have curly brown hair wrapped around it. Curly brown hair that smelled like Hermione Granger.

_What the hell is going on?_ Remus felt his eye twitch and his breathing rate increased as he continued to stare at the hair tie. His eyes then wildly flicked about the room as if he thought some explanation was written upon one of the walls. Except the explanation was pretty clear – Hermione had been here. _In Severus's private living quarters._

The man ran a hand through his hair as he tried to wrap his mind around the revelation. _It just can't be. It can't be possible! Severus would never allow a student into his personal rooms – he barely allows staff in! It can't be right._

And yet the evidence was in his hand. The book he could explain away, but what alternative explanation could there be for this? It was not as if Severus would have picked that up had he come across it on his rounds. Lupin slammed his eyes shut and sank down onto the armchair. Leaning against the armrest, he covered his face with one hand and tried to think of something –_anything—_ beyond the obvious that would still make sense.

As he sat, however, he found himself going through every interaction he had witnessed between the two of them during the past term. Her frustration and dislike for the man at the beginning of the school year had been perfectly in line with the rest of her House's population, and Severus had appeared to treat her as he usually had. If there had been something inappropriate between them, he would have seen it, or smelled it, or something.

His eyelids slowly lifted as he realized that perhaps he had noticed something after all. It had not really seemed relevant before now, but there had at times been a hint of her scent lingering about Snape's office. He had just assumed it was because she had stopped by to ask a question or to get another vial of the sleeping potion Minerva had said the girl had been taking, or because she had followed the Gryffindor Head down there on some task. But now that he thought back to that night just over a week ago, he realized that he had not actually picked up on McGonagall's scent when he came for his first dose of Wolfsbane – only Hermione's.

_Which means she must have been there sometime after Minerva. Been there _alone_ with him_. Remus could feel his temper rising upon remembering that he had found her there alone once before following her near drowning. It had not been terribly suspicious at the time, but in hindsight, Hermione had seemed somewhat nervous – as if she thought she had just been caught doing something wrong - and the Slytherin had been all too anxious to send her out the door. And then he had been quick to question Lupin's own intentions toward the girl.

As he had done so many times over the past few months. Even when the Defense instructor had brought concerns to Minerva in front of him regarding Hermione's possible promiscuity and pregnancy concerns, he had seemed solely preoccupied by the fact that Remus had inadvertently _smelled_ her. The young Gryffindor had been the one misbehaving, and yet Severus had done everything he could to point blame elsewhere – and to warn the concerned professor to keep his nose away from his person.

And then there had been the Potion Master's reaction to learning that Hermione had been involved with the Malfoy heir. Lupin was beginning to think that he had let the nature of his own surprise influence his interpretation of the other wizard's. He thought the man had solely been shocked by the possibility of the girl keeping company with the Death Eater's son, but it was possible that his outrage could have stemmed from betrayal and jealousy as well. After all, Severus had looked first to the girl before Draco, and had seemed almost defensive about Remus's condemnation of Hermione being involved in an inter-House relationship.

_"And any liaison between Miss Granger and a Slytherin must be a nefarious plot hatched by the Dark Lord."_

_"That isn't what I said." The werewolf sighed and wiped his face. "You can't tell me it isn't strange, though."_

_"No stranger than your continued interest in the matter," Severus muttered, removing his hand from his face and looking again towards the girl._

In replaying the memory, he realized that Snape had stormed out to 'investigate' shortly after the witch had abruptly left the Great Hall – and while Draco was still seated at the Slytherin table. His _investigation_ must have involved a confrontation with Hermione during which he demanded she put an end to the interlude, which would explain Hermione's tearful apologies to the boy and refusal to elaborate on anything when Remus tried to ask her questions. And when he had gone to share his discovery with Severus, he had seemed more irritated at having his evening interrupted than surprised by the development.

_Because he already knew!_ The werewolf all but threw himself out of the chair and began erratically pacing in front of the sofa. He could see the expression that had been on Hermione's face when he had caught her on the return from her late night rendezvous and had mentioned Snape's name. He could also see the flash of panic that had been in her eyes when he had come across her sobbing on the staircase leading down to the very room in which he now stood.

"You fucking idiot!" he snarled, kicking over the end table and sending the books in various directions. He should have started having suspicions then – at the beginning of October – when she had claimed to be desperate enough to look for Minerva in her quarters but had declined his offer to send the woman her way upon returning from Hogsmeade.

And how many times had Snape assigned her detention during the past term? Not just detentions in general, but detentions that he _personally_ had overseen. And how many times had there been fur on the man's robes? Fur that was the same length and color as the girl's familiar. In addition, there was the exchange he overhead upon approaching the staircase on his way down to the staff meeting not seven hours prior. Hermione had not seemed the least bit intimidated by him as they held a civil – by Severus's standard, at least – conversation, and she had even teased him about his birthday.

His eyes widened in rage at his next realization. _ She called him Severus! She used his bloody first name, and he didn't so much as reprimand her!_

"Bastard!" he growled, punching the mantelpiece_. He's been sleeping with her the entire time and rubbing it in my face!_

As his anger overtook him, he snatched a handful of Floo powder up with such force that it knocked the tin to the floor and then set off in the same path taken by the Order spy not long before.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"YOU GREASY, MOTHERFUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Remus roared as his fist plowed into the ribcage of the presently disoriented Slytherin. "The entire time, it's been you!"

"Remus, what the _hell_ are you doing?" Minerva shouted as she raised her wand at the attacker. Unfortunately, the moment the repelling spell left her wand-tip was the same second Severus recovered enough to elbow the man in the side of the head and reverse their positions.

"Bugger!" she hissed when it was the dark-haired man her spell sent skittering across the floor. When Remus launched himself across the distance, she fired a Stunner at him. Though it very clearly collided with his shoulder, it did little to deter him from re-engaging the Potions Master in a physical struggle. Uncertain as to how another misplaced spell could interfere with Snape's likely head injury, she resorted to simply shouting at the werewolf while waiting for an opening in the fight to magically restrain him. "REMUS JOHN LUPIN! STOP IT! GET OFF OF HIM!"

As the Defense professor grabbed the collar of Snape's robe in an attempt to slam his head into the floor again, the spy broke the hold by punching the underside of the man's chin followed quickly by the inside of his elbow. As Lupin buckled in response, Severus planted a knee into his gut and then seized upon the opportunity provided by the paused assault to deliver a swift kick to the man's kneecap. Scrambling to his feet, he collected his waylaid wand from the floor and was just about to give the werewolf one further blow to the head when he was suddenly yanked backwards by the arm.

"_Sit_ down, Severus," McGonagall snapped, pushing him onto the nearest stone bench. She then stood in front of him and folded her arms to her chest while staring down the man still on the floor. "Now what the _hell_ is this all about?"

Remus wheezed slightly as he rose onto his knees and then immediately faltered as pain shot through his leg. Grimacing, he hauled himself onto his feet and tried to limp forward.

"Ah, ah," she shook her head, pointing her wand in his direction. "Spit it out from there."

Breathing heavily, he gestured over her shoulder. "He… he's been…sleeping with… student.."

"WHAT?" Snape thundered, jumping to his feet only to have Minerva extend an arm behind her and press him back onto the seat.

"Remus," she hissed with a glare. "What in Merlin's name are you suggesting?"

"Hermione Granger," he stated harshly, regaining some measure of control over his breathing as he shifted his weight onto his uninjured leg. "_He's_ been taking advantage of her for months!"

Severus growled audibly and ignored the witch's attempts to keep him sitting. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"No, I really think I do!" the man returned. "All this time you've been accusing me of harboring sick fantasies about the girl when you've been the one preying on her all along! Tell me, Severus – did you rape her, too, or did you think you'd just collect on a debt for having to go out of your way?"

"You fucking idiot! You –"

"I _trusted_ you!" Lupin spat. "I took your abuse because in some disturbing way I thought you were looking out for her – but you were just trying to protect _yourself_ so you could keep _using_ her!"

"Enough, Remus!" Minerva shouted, grabbing onto Snape's shoulder to keep him from reacting again. "Do you have any proof of this or are you just shooting off half-cocked again? Because I will NOT stand for you slandering his reputation with baseless accusations!"

Lupin shook his head. "They're not baseless, Minerva! I have evidence –"

"_What_ evidence?" Severus interrupted nastily.

"Enough, Severus," the Gryffindor witch instructed in a softer tone. "We're not discussing this any further until we're away from the possibility of prying ears. Headmaster's Office, now."

When the two men made no motions to cease their glaring match, she rolled her eyes and sent a stinging hex at the greying wizard in front of her. "Now!"

With a huff, Remus began angrily limping toward the door to the corridor, and the witch finally turned to look at her friend.

"Do you need a detour to the infirmary first?"

Snape shook his head, wincing slightly at the pain that resulted from the action. "I'm fine."

"Severus, your skull is not meant to make that sound," she protested, grabbing his arm as he tried to move past her.

"The wolf is getting away from us," he mumbled, pulling away from her.

Minerva sighed and hustled after him. "At least let me summon Poppy to meet us there –"

"No," the man interrupted. "Not until we know how Albus chooses to respond. Poppy only knows the bare minimum, and we will keep it that way."

Growling under her breath, she bitterly stowed her wand and re-crossed her arms as they again caught sight of Remus in the walkway leading up to the seventh floor. A moment later, she cast a concerned glance up at the man beside her and whispered, "What proof could he actually have?"

The Slytherin shrugged in response, but did not stop glaring at the wizard ahead of them. "Beats the fuck out of me."

"He certainly tried," she murmured glumly. "I'm sorry for accidently hexing you, by the way. It was meant for Remus."

With a dismissive grunt, the wizard prodded at his split lip with one finger.

"I understand that he didn't have his wand drawn, but honestly, Severus," she chided gently, "you did not need to adhere to dueling procedure. You could have just hexed him –"

"It was not out of courtesy," he grumbled as they moved past the stone gargoyle, which was already standing aside in response to Lupin's bid for entrance. For that, Snape felt strangely grateful as he had no desire to admit to the Deputy Headmistress that he could not quite remember at the moment which sweet it was that Dumbledore had obnoxiously assigned as a password. Nor was he willing to share that he had responded with physical violence because it was more instinctual and required less mental focus than wandless magic.

"Then what was it out of?" she pressed.

His lip curled in irritation upon reaching the top of the spiral staircase. "A desire to pound in his face, perhaps?"

McGonagall fixed him with a look of disbelief. "Severus –"

"Good evening, Remus!" a familiar voice called out. "Severus, Minerva – to what do I owe the pleasure?"

The Gryffindor Head rolled her eyes as she stormed in through the office door. "Pleasure is not the word I would use to describe it, Albus. Remus has leveled some unsavory allegations against Severus, and we are here because it is _your_ responsibility to straighten out these sorts of messes."

"Oh?" the grey wizard intoned, leaning forward in his desk chair. He sent a quick look in Snape's direction and, upon noting his expression, immediately understood the nature of the situation. "Perhaps we should all take a seat then. Remus, if you would, please explain what it is you suspect Severus of doing?"

"He has been sleeping with a student," the man snapped, casting a glare at the Slytherin. "To make matters worse, it's with Miss Granger."

"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore repeated with raised eyebrows and then turned to face his spy. "Severus, tell me this is not true."

_Denying it for now, are we_? Snape took in a pained breath and slowly descended into a chair. "Of course it isn't. I do not know what he thinks he's found, but he's obviously drawn the wrong conclusions. Again, I might add."

"You have not been engaging in an inappropriate relationship without my knowledge or consent?"

"Of course not!" he snarled, crossing his arms. "Anyone who assumes that I would is an idiot!"

Albus nodded in response and sighed. "Remus, why don't you share why you suspect otherwise? I'm sure there must be a logical explanation for everything."

"Forgive me, sir, but we are all well aware of what an accomplished liar he is," Lupin argued. "I would prefer to hear it from her."

"Very well, then," the Headmaster sighed. "Minerva, if you would fetch Miss Granger, I am sure we will be able to put this all to rest."

The witch gave a nod and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Minerva," he added, "it would probably be for the best if the girl is not informed as to the nature of this gathering until she arrives in case there are any concerns that she has had time to prepare herself."

"Of course, Albus," she agreed as Remus gave a relieved nod.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I've said I'm sorry about yelling at you the other night, didn't I?"

Hermione took in a short breath as she flipped a page of her book. "Yes, Harry. Several times. I'm still not showing you my essay."

"I _really_ am sorry," he stressed with a smirk. "Really _really_ sorry."

She slowly raised her eyes over the edge of the book and fixed him with a stare of mock exasperation. When he tilted his head and blinked rapidly, she gave a small laugh and shook her head. "That really _really_ isn't the least bit attractive."

"Is it effective, though?"

Rolling her eyes, she exhaled loudly and propped up her book again. "Not in the least. Honestly, if you spent the amount of time looking at a potions text instead of brown-nosing me, you would have figured it out by now."

"But you're the insufferable know-it-all," he teased.

"And you're the Chosen One," she returned, turning another page. As annoying as the boy was about completing his homework, she was beyond relieved to note that he had returned to his normal self. It appeared that Snape had been right after all as Harry had exhibited no further bursts of rage or despair while in her presence since he had woken up after lunch the day before.

Letting out a sigh, Harry set down his quill and glanced about at the stacks. "Fine. Would you at least direct me to the right book?"

The witch smiled and nodded before giving him explicit instructions as to its description and location. When he had begrudgingly stood from the table and went off in search of the needed resource, she pulled his parchment across the table and then dropped her jaw. They had spent hours in the library that day –leaving only for supper and a few rounds of defense practice in the Room of Requirement – and yet he had gotten no further than his name and a few vague introductory sentences.

_He's just as bad as Ron._ Tossing it back in disgust, she pulled forth her own notebook and proceeded to add another line of information to her massive compilation of notes on calculating the probabilities of natural events. Even with everything that had happened, _she_ had still managed to complete her Potions homework far ahead of schedule.

As Harry dropped back into his chair and groaned upon opening the large book to see that the actually text was incredibly small. "Tell me there's an index to this thing."

"Mmmm, well I could, but I would be lying," she remarked without glancing up from her notebook.

The boy let out a whimper and sank down into his chair.

Hermione felt a small twinge of guilt for not helping him any further than she had since she knew that Harry was busy doing whatever it was with Dumbledore, but she also thought he should be accountable for his own work. Plus, she had promised Severus that she would not do anything for Harry, and it was his birthday after all. She had not had enough time or money to buy him a gift since McGonagall had only told her the night before – and she would not have known what to get him even if she had – so she could at least ensure that he had a poorly-crafted essay to obliterate with red ink. Harry generally ignored any comments on his Potions essay, but she figured Severus might find it therapeutic in some way.

_Like blowing up his sofa_. The girl rubbed her temple at the memory and sighed. She still could not figure out why he had been upset with her for fixing it, but she had considered that it might have something to do with what Minerva had hinted at before telling her when his birthday was. The elder witch refused to say anything explicit since she would not betray his confidence, but she had cautioned Hermione against pressing the boundaries of their relationship too far and had stressed the need for patience with him.

_As if that wasn't brutally obvious already._ The words on the page in front of her were beginning to blend together, and she yawned as she set down the book. Her discussion with McGonagall had further complicated how she approached him today. She had a sneaking suspicion that he detested the day, so she was not sure if he would appreciate being reminded of it. She had been concerned that he would have been irritated if she sent him a mental patronus just so she could wish him a happy birthday, but when he had come across her on the staircase, she could not quite resist saying something about it.

The young witch felt bad about not doing anything for his birthday, but thankfully, she had had the sense not to ambush him in his own quarters. She suspected he might already have unwanted visitors dropping by, and when he had curtly informed her an hour ago to continue keeping her distance, she knew she was right. Hopefully, though, Remus would leave before he aggravated Severus too much further.

_I guess I'll just have to make it up to him next year_, she sighed. A moment later, she froze. _Well, that's a curious thought._

"What are you doing?"

Hermione glanced up at the intrusion into her thoughts. "Huh?"

"What homework are you doing?" Harry clarified.

"Oh," she murmured. "Taking notes for my Arithmancy final project."

He grunted in acknowledgement and then peered down at his book in disgust. "Want to trade?"

"Now, Potter – you're beginning to sound like the youngest Mr. Weasley. Surely doing a Potions essay on your own will not kill you."

Hermione smirked as Professor McGonagall appeared behind the boy with a stern expression on her face.

"There's always a chance, Professor," Harry remarked cheekily.

Minerva arched an eyebrow at him. "Yes, but I imagine the risk is severely less than the one associated with facing a Potions Master after handing in plagiarized work."

"Touché," he mumbled, picking up his quill once again.

The Deputy Headmistress snorted softly and then looked toward Hermione. "Miss Granger, would you come with me for a moment? There's something I was hoping I could discuss with you."

The girl narrowed her eyes in confusion, but nodded and began gathering up all of her supplies into her book bag. "I'll see you later, Harry."

As the boy offered a muffled farewell, she tossed her bag over her shoulder and hustled after her professor.

"Has something happened?"

McGonagall grunted quietly as she held open the library door. "You could say that."

"What's wrong?" the girl mumbled quickly.

The elder witch sighed and rolled her shoulders. "Remus would like a word with the two of you."

Hermione took a few seconds to contemplate the statement, and then her eyes widened in fear. "What?"

As a Ravenclaw student passed by them in the corridor, the Transfiguration professor dipped her head in acknowledgement and then pushed open the door to the Defense classroom. When the door closed behind them, she cleared her throat. "In the time it takes us to reach the Floo in Remus's office, you will forget that I have mentioned anything to you, is that understood?"

"Yes," she nodded emphatically.

"He thinks he has something that proves you and Severus have been having an affair –"

"Oh god."

"—but Severus has denied it at Professor Dumbledore's insistence," Minerva explained as they reached the staircase that led to the office.

The girl anxiously touched her forehead. "What do I need to do?"

"First and foremost, you need to appear entirely ignorant of what is happening upon your arrival," she instructed upon grabbing the office door. "You must also pay strict attention to what Professor Dumbledore says to guide your responses and to come up with an alternative explanation that will both fit the evidence and satisfy Remus. If that is impossible for you to do, Albus will figure out something. If it becomes absolutely necessary, we will fill him in on everything that has happened, but not until the Headmaster gives the go ahead."

Before she activated the Floo, McGonagall touched the girl's cheek and gave a tight smile. "It will be alright. Whatever happens, we will work it out."

Hermione took in a deep breath and closed her eyes as her mentor opened a connection to the Headmaster's Office.

"I hope you don't mind, Remus," Minerva stated once the pair of them had stepped through the fireplace, "I utilized your office Floo to save on time."

"I do not mind," he responded, glancing at them briefly before returning to glare at his former schoolmate.

"Thank you for joining us, Miss Granger," Dumbledore stated pleasantly, rising from his seat and gesturing to the empty armchair in front of his desk. "I apologize for interrupting your evening."

"It's alright," she mumbled, glancing about the room nervously as she set down her bag and descended into the seat. After taking in the rough appearances of both of the younger professors – and noticing that Severus was purposely ignoring her presence – she swallowed and looked to the Headmaster. "Is something wrong, sir? Professor McGonagall said it was urgent, but that she couldn't say anything else. Are my parents alright? Did something happen to them?"

From her position at the fireplace, Minerva glanced over Remus's head and smirked as she briefly caught Severus's eye. Her smug expression quickly faded into concern, however, when she noticed a brief flicker of pain flash across his face when he shifted in his seat.

"No, no," Albus shook his head, reclaiming his chair. "As far as _I_ am aware, your parents are perfectly safe. I do not believe there is any need to be concerned over that at the present moment."

Nodding in relief, she glanced at each of her professors in turn so as not to draw attention to her visual assessment of Snape's injuries. There was blood on his lip, he appeared to be favoring his right side as he leaned against the armrest, and he was pressing his fingertips to his head as though he had a headache. Noticing that Remus appeared just as uncomfortable in his chair, she met McGonagall's pointed gaze and then turned back to Dumbledore. "Are _they_ alright, sir? What happened?"

"A disagreement amongst friends, my dear," he replied with a twinkle as Snape audibly scoffed. "One for which, I hope, _you_ may provide a resolution."

"Me?" she stammered with wide eyes. "How can I resolve it?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and steepled his fingers. "I mean you no offense, Miss Granger, but I must ask and I'm afraid that there really is no delicate way to handle it. Have you at any time during your enrollment here engaged in an unsanctioned relationship with Professor Snape?"

Hermione leaned forward as she forced her eyes to widen and her jaw to drop. "Ex-excuse me? Have I _what_?"

"Have you entered into an unauthorized relationship with Professor Snape?" he rephrased calmly.

"You think I've been… that I've…" she shook her head in disbelief. "With_ Professor Snape_? You have to be joking!"

As the Headmaster continued to silently hold his gaze, she let out an anxious breath as her gaze flitted toward each of her professors. "You _are_ joking, right? You don't _actually_ think… Professor, please _tell_ them it isn't true."

"If you would please answer the question, Hermione," Lupin stated quietly as she pleadingly stared at Snape.

"No! My answer is _no_!" she shook her head, locking eyes with him. "How could you possibly think otherwise?"

As Remus flinched slightly, the student whirled back to face the Headmaster. "I swear, sir – I don't know why you think such a thing of me, but it isn't true!"

"Professor Snape has not abused his role as a teacher or protector to influence you into –"

"No," she interrupted with another shake of her head. "He hasn't _abused_ his role nor has he influenced me into doing anything _unsanctioned_."

Albus gave an encouraging smile and rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair. "And he has not over-stepped his bounds during your private lessons?"

"No, he –"

"Private lessons?" the Defense instructor queried, straightening slightly in his chair.

"I suppose you didn't bother to think of that," Snape sneered as he continued to rub his forehead.

"I don't recall it being appropriate to host _Potions lessons_ in your personal quarters," Remus countered with a glare.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and donned a confused tone. "His _quarters_? Why would you think I've been there?"

The werewolf eventually tore his eyes from the wizard and softened his gaze and voice when answering her question. "I found your book there."

Severus dropped his hand back into his lap and raised an eyebrow. "What book?"

"The one on defensive charms," he replied. "_Contego_, I believe it was called."

The Slytherin let out an irritated sigh. "If your furriness had bothered to check the inside of the front cover, you would have seen that the name inscribed there is Eileen Prince, _not_ Hermione Granger."

"Who?"

"His mother," Minerva responded.

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Then why did she have it? I saw her reading it a few weeks ago."

"Because he _loaned_ it to me!" Hermione interjected, cutting off a scathing remark from the dark-haired wizard. "He's given me a number of books to read in conjunction with our lessons. That was one of the two I read over the holiday and I gave it back to him after I returned from visiting my parents."

Remus glanced between the two of them and then frowned. "Wait, what does defensive shielding have to do with Potions?"

"That question is precisely why _I_ am the Potions Master and _you_ are not," Snape grumbled, crossing his arms and then wincing at the contact with his ribs. Ignoring the sudden looks of concern from the two Gryffindor witches, he kept his eyes focused on the werewolf. "That being said, unlike the majority of her House, Miss Granger is not in need of private Potions lessons. She is, however, in need of guidance in the area of personal defense."

"You're giving her _Defense_ lessons?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "Always quick on the uptake."

With narrowed eyes, the other wizard dug into his pocket. "That still doesn't explain _this_!"

"A hair tie?" Hermione questioned after having risen out of her seat to view the object he held.

"It was in your sitting room, Severus," he replied, a challenging look on his face. "I know it's hers."

Before the Slytherin had a chance to reply, the young witch plucked the item from Remus's hand and shook her head. "I don't know why it was there, but I haven't actually used it in a while because it's nearly ready to snap. I usually give them to Crooks when they wear out since he always tries to steal them anyway."

"Oh," McGonagall startled, touching her neck. "I suppose that might be my fault then."

"Your fault?" Hermione asked, glancing at her in honest surprise.

"Erm, yes," the elder witch nodded, glancing somewhat sheepishly in Severus's direction. "I had noticed, Miss Granger, that your familiar has developed a fondness of sorts for Professor Snape, so I elicited his help in making his birthday as torturous an affair as it could be. He spent the better part of the day chasing things about the room – "

"And destroying everything he could get his mangy paws on," the spy added.

"—so I imagine he happened to leave behind one of his toys."

Muttering an expletive under his breath, Snape closed his eyes and covered them with one hand in an attempt to block out the light that was burning at his eyes. "Is there anything else you thought you'd unearthed while playing bloodhound, or can we be done with this farce?"

Visibly stunned, Remus stared at the floor as he tried to comprehend just where everything had taken a horrible turn in his head. It had all made so much sense before, but now not only was it not the only possible scenario; it also seemed much less likely. Unless the girl was a much better actress than anyone had imagined and Severus was that easy to misread, his assumption that the two were sexually involved appeared to be entirely unfounded.

"I guess that was all," he sighed, shaking his head in astonishment.

"That was all?" Snape bellowed, grimacing at the sound of his own voice as he dropped his hand. "A loaned book and something the cat dragged in? _That's_ what led you to believe that I was victimizing a student, and that Miss Granger had allowed herself to be coerced into my bed? That was _all_?"

Lupin shirked back in his chair and shrugged his uninjured arm defensively as he stammered, "It just made sense –"

"It just made _sense_?" he mocked angrily, ignoring the searing pain in his left side as he leaned over the armrest. "Why? Because I'm a nasty Death Eater who preys on the weak, and _she's_ an assault victim acting out? That must be it!"

"Severus!" Dumbledore and McGonagall warned in unison, while the werewolf blanched.

"It wasn't like that!" he protested, snapping his gaze toward the girl who was staring at him with a genuinely hurt expression on her face. "Hermione, I swear that wasn't what I was thinking."

Not fully certain as to why the remark stung so violently, the girl bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. Averting her eyes from the man's pleading gaze, she turned to the Headmaster and wrapped her arms about her waist. As her face flushed, she felt suddenly sick to her stomach, and her voice came out in little more than a whisper. "Am I allowed to leave now, sir?"

Albus held a sad gaze as he nodded. "You may go if you desire. I apologize for the ruined evening."

Hermione gave a soft grunt in response as she picked up her book bag from the floor. Without so much a glance in either Severus's or Remus's direction, she quickly made for the exit.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Minerva inhaled deeply and pushed away from the mantel. "As soon as the matter is resolved, Albus, see to it that Severus makes it to the infirmary straightaway. I have no doubt he is suffering from a concussion, but there are likely further injuries."

Dumbledore gave a nod of acknowledgement as his Deputy made for the door and headed after the girl. "Remus, if you have no further complaints, I think it would be wise to send the both of you for medical examination. I have a feeling that Poppy will have plenty to keep her busy tonight."

Without waiting to hear the man's response, Snape rose from his chair and began moving toward the fireplace. The fact that the room was beginning to spin slightly due to the pressure in his head – as well as his regret over offending Hermione through his angry response – nullified any joy he may have otherwise experienced at seeing the werewolf struggling to maneuver out of his chair with an injured arm and leg on opposite sides of his body.

Despite his head already feeling as though it were going to explode, he pulled together enough focus to unsilence their connection. '_Hermione, I am sorry.'_

When her responding thoughts overwhelmingly conveyed her desire for him to leave her alone, he closed his eyes and recast the mental _silencio_ before reaching for the Floo powder.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"The poor thing," the Fat Lady sighed at the approach of the Gryffindor Head of House. "She looks positively miserable."

Minerva nodded in understanding and quickly gave the password, stepping through the entrance as soon as the portrait swung open. The Common Room was empty save for the ginger cat leaping down from his perch in one of the windows. As the creature met her at the base of the girls' dormitory staircase, she glanced down and gave him a stern look. "You certainly caused more trouble than I asked you to, young man."

With a swish of his tail, Crookshanks bounded up the remainder of the stairs and nudged open the door to the Prefects' room wide enough to slip through. As the witch was a few steps behind him, he was out of sight by the time she opened it the rest of the way and stepped across the threshold. Glancing about the room, she noticed that the girl's book bag had been roughly deposited at the foot of her bed, but its owner was absent.

Her eyes flicked momentarily to the windows as the memory of an earlier search for the young witch surfaced, but she gave a relieved breath upon seeing they were all still securely latched. Moving on toward the attached bathroom, she startled at finding Hermione on the floor, leaning against the toilet with her familiar rubbing his face along her hip.

"Are you going to be ill?"

The girl glanced up at her with moist eyes and then sat back against the side of the bathtub and shrugged. "I thought I was. It…came on suddenly, but I think I'm alright now."

Giving a sad sigh, the Deputy Headmistress stepped toward her and sat upon the edge of the tub. "I hope you know that Severus did not intend to upset you. He's injured and obviously was not thinking clearly."

"I know," Hermione mumbled at the floor. "He already apologized."

"He did?" she asked in surprise. As her student gave one slow nod, she placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. Taking in a labored breath, the young witch pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head against them. "Hermione, what's wrong?"

In response, the girl only shook her head and turned to stare at the wall behind the commode.

"I know it isn't nothing, Miss Granger, so do not try to claim that it is," McGonagall stated firmly. "That last bit wasn't an act on your part, and we all know it. Please, tell me what you're feeling so that perhaps I can help you."

Hermione remained silent for a long moment before finally muttering, "I stopped thinking about it, you know."

"Pardon?"

"I hadn't even realized it until now," she said slowly, "but I haven't thought about…_that_ night for a while. I mean it isn't like I _forgot_ about it, but I just didn't…think about it."

Minerva nodded and gently began rubbing the girl's shoulder at the sound of sniffling.

"It's probably wrong, I know, but I wanted to think that what we were doing was something real instead of…something forced," she sighed and wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "But then he said _that_… and I realized he's right."

"What?" the professor exclaimed in shock. "No, he –"

"Not about the Death Eater part," she continued, "but the part about me."

"Hermione, _no_."

The young witch turned slightly so that she could look into the woman's face. "It is. I'm just a victim who has been doing everything I can to convince myself that I'm not! And I've been trying to force him into the charade along with me. He keeps trying to get me to stop, but he won't actually say it, so I keep pushing and pushing…and it's all just a lie!"

Exhaling loudly, she looked back to the floor and dropped her shoulders. "He hasn't over-stepped his bounds with me, because I'm just part of his duty…an obligation, and nothing more. _I'm_ the one pressuring _him _into something more, and he won't stop me because he feels guilty for having been forced to hurt me. But you must already know this since you told me not to keep pushing."

"That wasn't my intent –"

"I just wanted to be normal," Hermione mumbled, "to have something normal… to be someone he wants, but I'm not because I'm not… enough."

McGonagall stared at her in concern for a lengthy moment, before clearing her throat and rising to stand. "Well, come along then. It seems there is a conversation to be had, and I would prefer it be somewhere a bit more comfortable."

The young witch hesitantly glanced at the hand being extended to her, but accepted the assistance in being pulled to her feet. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand, she followed her Head of House into the bedroom and over to the cushioned window seat. When the elder woman sat down and patted the space next to her, Hermione took a seat.

"Now," Minerva stated matter-of-factly. "Allow me to clear up the misunderstanding regarding my earlier conversation with you. It was not my intention to warn you away from…pursuing more of a… _normal_ relationship with Severus. The fact that you have grown to care for him as a man, and not as your professor or your protector, is _not_ a bad thing. It isn't _wrong_, so please don't tell yourself that it is. Don't belittle yourself by claiming your feelings to be falsities, because I know they're not. And in your heart, you know that they're not. And in _his_ heart, Severus knows that they're not."

As the girl squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away, the Deputy Headmistress sighed and touched her chin. "Hermione, please look at me. I only said what I did because there are… other issues that _he_ needs to address while the two of you move forward. They are not remotely your fault, and I only suggested that you slow down a bit just to give him time to come to terms with himself. It isn't because he thinks of you as an obligation – I assure you, he doesn't – but because he thinks enough of you that he wants to protect you from every threat – real or imagined."

"What do you mean?" the brunette whispered, narrowing her eyes.

McGonagall inhaled deeply and looked to the ceiling as she debated how much she was willing to share. "Suffice it to say that Severus has lived a very… difficult life even during his childhood. There are… _things_ from his past that still affect him, and he does not want them to affect you."

"Like his father, you mean?" she asked tentatively, pulling her feet up onto the cushion. _Or perhaps like Lily?_

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "He discussed that with you?"

Hermione let out a deep breath and shrugged. "Not much, but he mentioned that his father was a cruel drunk, and that he grew to dislike Muggles because of him."

"I will have you know, Miss Granger," she murmured with an awed shake of her head, "that I have known him for a quarter century – as a professor, as a colleague, and as a friend – and he only admitted it to me less than a week ago. And only then it was because of you. When did he tell you?"

She frowned in contemplation before answering, "About a month ago, I think."

"And has he told you other things?" Minerva pressed. "Personal things, I mean? And you do not need to share."

The young Gryffindor nodded. "He said it was only fair that I be able to ask him questions since he knows next to everything about me."

"Hermione," she groused, "that man has never _played fair_ in his entire life, and he is the most private individual I have ever met. If he willingly shared pieces of his past with you, it means that he trusts you more than anyone else in his life. Surely you must recognize that that is _far_ above duty-bound."

The girl exhaled slowly and wrapped her arms about her legs. "I guess so."

"Has this been bothering you a while?"

Hermione blinked back a few tears and nodded.

"And have you spoken to him about it?" McGonagall asked. When the girl shook her head, she sighed and slipped her arm across the girl's shoulders. "I think you should consider doing so. He can give you answers that I cannot."

The curly-haired witch closed her eyes momentarily before swallowing in uncertainty. "I just don't want him to look at me the way Remus does."

"I can guarantee that will never happen," the Gryffindor Head stated boldly. "Severus has done everything he possible could to keep attention away from you, and there has never been a man more disgusted by pity. And even Remus is just concerned for you –"

"Well, I don't think I can stand his _concern_ any longer!" Hermione growled, pushing off of the seat and stalking over to her bed. "It was bad enough before, but now it's going to be even worse! I hate feeling like I'm on display or that I have to be monitored to make sure I don't suddenly do something reckless – like sleep with the entire Gryffindor dormitory! I swear that with every passing week, the list of my alleged sexual partners grows in his head. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin sometimes."

Minerva calmly took a breath and clasped her hands together in her lap. "Severus and I have both asked him nicely to back off – well, _I_ asked nicely –but he is as stubborn as either of us. Is there something else I can do that would make it any easier for you?"

The girl took a deep breath and touched one of her bed posts. "I would like… I would appreciate it if you would allow me to drop Defense this term."

The woman blinked in surprise and leaned forward. "You want to… Are you certain? Perhaps you should consult with Severus first –"

"Am I suddenly incapable of making my own decisions?" she cried. "Or does _everyone else_ just get to have a say in my life before I do?"

McGonagall sighed and ducked her head. "You are right, Hermione, and I am sorry. If you are certain this is what you want –"

"It is."

"—then I will inform Remus in the morning as to your official withdrawal," she finished. A moment later, she rose from the window seat and stepped towards her student. Touching the girl's cheek, Minerva gave her a small smile. "Hermione Jean Granger, you are not _just a victim_; you are far more than enough for anyone; and frankly, normal is over-rated and boring."

Her bottom lip quivering, the young witch allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace. She clung to the woman for several minutes until the tears slipping down her cheeks ceased and their tracks began to dry. At that point, she cleared her throat and pulled away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Minerva smirked, gently holding on to the girl's arms. "You are much easier to deal with than a certain dark-haired Slytherin we both know. I certainly do not envy Poppy at the present moment."

Hermione giggled despite herself and then sighed. "He did look rather tough sitting there."

"Oh, he'll be alright. Besides, he gave just as good as he got," she replied. "But it's been quite a long and stressful day. You should get some sleep. I'm sure tomorrow evening for you will be full of Weasley gossip."

With a minor grimace, the brunette nodded and collapsed onto her mattress. "Thank you, Professor."

"You're more than welcome, Miss Granger."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Fighting?" Poppy screeched, as she stalked out of her office. "Honestly! At your age? The two of you think I don't have enough to do with students injuring each other in petty squabbles – you had to make a go of it yourselves?"

Severus winced as her yelling caused his head to throb and then gestured about the empty infirmary. "Unless there is a mass epidemic of Maldovian Invisibility Sickness suddenly plaguing the student body, you have absolutely nothing to do at the moment."

The Mediwitch took in an irritated breath and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing into a seat on one of the cots. "That isn't the point, Severus. The two of you are supposed to be adults, and should behave like it!"

The wizard rolled his eyes as she hustled off to chastise Remus while she guided him toward his own bed. Upon glancing over his shoulder and seeing that the werewolf had been placed next to him, he growled and immediately relocated himself to a cot further away.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Pomfrey sighed after turning around. "How _old_ are you? It's as if you turned twelve today, not thirty-seven!"

"Would you stop shouting?" he snapped, pushing on his forehead.

The witch let out a grunt and grumpily glanced between the two of them. Recognizing that it was best to check for any internal bleeds or ruptured organs, she decided to cast a quick diagnostic scan over each of them.

"Minor fracture to the jaw, large contusion to the shoulder, dislocated elbow, two bruised ribs, ruptured ligament, torn cartilage," she murmured as she traced her wand about Remus's form and interpreted the results. "You'll survive for the moment."

Lupin gave a weak smile as she spun away from him and stomped over to the other wizard.

"And what about you, hmm?" she queried. "Concussion, methinks?"

"The wolf gets a scan, and I get conjecture?" Severus grumbled.

"Oh, you'll get your bloody scan alright." Ignoring the man's protest, she yanked his hand away from his face, forcibly grabbed hold of his chin, and stared into his eyes. Frowning, she extracted her wand and repeated the same motions she had done with the other professor. "Definite concussion – the only thing to do about that is –"

"Headache relief potions and rest," he finished irritably.

Poppy gave a slight smirk. "Done this before, have you?"

"You know I have."

"You forgot to mention, however, that you should avoid apparition for at least a day or two," she replied.

He glared at her and gave a small huff. "Perhaps you could send a Healer's note off to the Dark Lord and explain that I should be given medical leave lest he grows desperate for my company."

"I see Remus failed to dislocate your sarcasm," she muttered, before noting a number of bruises. When she finished her scan a moment later, she gave an annoyed huff and glared at his ribcage. "Again? Did I _not_ just fix those? Why do I continue wasting my time putting you back together if you insist on falling apart so frequently?"

"I suppose I should have been more considerate of your feelings, Poppy, while in the midst of having my head slammed against stone," he sneered. "How thoughtless of me."

The woman shook her head and snorted. "Well, considering the list of injuries on the other one, I'd say you caused your fair share of damage, young man."

"He started it," he muttered defensively.

"I realize that," she smirked, as she began the process of mending his fractured ribs. "Had you been the aggressor, I would be reattaching pieces of him right now and leaving you here to dwell in your own misery."

Though several painful twinges fluttered across his abdomen, Snape donned a smug expression.

Noticing his face, she snickered softly. "I probably still would have been had he not concussed you first, wouldn't I?"

He shrugged and tilted his head. "Just don't tell Minerva. She assumed I was being honorable."

"Have I ever?" she returned with a raise of her eyebrow before smacking him on the shoulder. "Now stop squirming, or they won't heal properly."

The Slytherin raised a lip in disgust, but otherwise kept still.

"Good boy," Poppy chuckled, finishing her healing charm with a neat flick of the wrist.

"Oh, shut up and get me a Headache-relief potion," he growled.

"In a moment," she chided, gesturing to the miserable-looking Defense instructor. "I have to go admire your handiwork first."

Severus smirked as he closed his eyes. "It only gets better with time. You could let it set a bit longer."

Ignoring him, the Mediwitch crossed back over to the Gryffindor and began her repairs. "You know, Remus, it's customary to give birthday _spankings_, not contusions and cracked ribs."

The man sighed and nodded sheepishly.

"Merlin's pants," she clucked loudly, "you've known each other twenty-five years! Can you not deal with each other without one or both of you winding up here?"

"We had a misunderstanding," Lupin mumbled quietly.

"I'll say," she replied, moving on from his elbow to his knee. "You had better count yourself lucky, though, that you made your first shot count."

The wizard grimaced and cast an apologetic look in Snape's direction. "I am sorry."

Severus tightened his jaw in response and continued staring at the wall.

"Probably not the best time, dear," Madam Pomfrey remarked, tapping him on the recently-healed joint. "He isn't generally forgiving when in pain –"

"Poppy, if you don't cease your inane chattering and get me my potion, I will fetch it myself, and you will be forced to fix them again!" the man in question interrupted.

Giving an exasperated groan, the matron nurse turned toward her storeroom and called over her shoulder. "Shall I float a candle in it?"


	52. Unpleasant Conversations

**A/N: Thank you for all of your continued reviews! Looking forward to hearing from you again!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 52**

As the door snapped shut behind the Deputy Headmistress, Remus sank back against his desk and ran a hand over his face. He could feel the tension mounting behind his forehead as the lack of sleep magnified the guilt he felt over the events of the previous night. He had only gone to Severus's rooms to wish him a happy birthday and to attempt making amends, and he instead had somehow managed to misjudge the relationship between the Slytherin and Hermione so terribly that he had alienated both of them. Severus had refused to speak to him during the entirety of their mutual stay in the Hospital Wing, and had stalked off against Poppy's advice as soon as she had confirmed that his ribs had set.

_And Hermione!_ The look that had been on her face before she made her own quick exit had tortured him the rest of the night. In his head, Lupin thought he had been trying to protect her, but he had let himself get so carried away on the idea that Snape could have been taking advantage of her that _he_ had hurt her. He thought at first that she could have been acting, but her expressions – especially the one that screamed betrayal – had been so genuine, and he doubted anyone could have faked a physical reaction such as hers.

And now she had withdrawn from his course. Remus winced lightly at the soreness in his knee as he pushed off of the desk edge. Minerva had told him just to accept it, but he had to make it right with Hermione. He had to explain himself.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione sat at her usual table in the back of the library, resting her head on her arms. She had finished all of the homework that was due at the start of term already and she could not currently bring herself to work ahead on anything. Rather, she was sitting in the library – without any books – to hide from the rest of the castle.

As it was shortly after noon, her stomach had started to rumble, but she promised herself that she would stop by the kitchens later. She held no desire to eat in the Great Hall as she wanted to avoid nearly everyone there. She was embarrassed to have broken down in front of Professor McGonagall, and she was not ready to deal with Severus – not until she got her own feelings for him sorted out. She was annoyed with the Headmaster for making her life that much harder by refusing to explain everything to Remus.

_But then again, had he done so, you know Remus would be constantly checking up on you. And you know he would be watching Severus like a hawk, which would have drawn too much outside attention._ So, maybe she understood his decision, but she still did not wish to see him. And she especially wanted to avoid the Defense instructor. She did not want to discuss anything about what had occurred the night before or to answer his questions about her withdrawal. She just wanted to be left alone.

"Hermione? Are you in here?"

_Damn_. The witch immediately scrambled to her feet and began considering her options for escape. Settling on a route, she darted around the far end of one of the stacks and waited until she could see that the coast was clear before sprinting for the exit. She did not cease running until she had after she had reached the nearest set of staircases and had ascended a full flight.

Catching her breath, Hermione slowed to a normal pace and realized that she needed to find a less obvious hiding spot. She should have known that the man would seek her out after having the discussion with Professor McGonagall, and the library would have been the first place he looked. As she continued climbing to the seventh floor, she crossed her arms and shook her head at the absurdity of actually having run away from the confrontation.

Reaching the desired floor, she paused for a minute as she contemplated whether she would rather go back to her dormitory or seek refuge in the Room of Requirement. Tempted by the opportunity to work out some of her frustration by destroying fighting dummies, she decided upon the latter and began moving in that direction. Covering her face with her hands, she groaned quietly as she rounded the corner and then let out a startled gasp upon colliding with a solid mass. She glanced up just long enough to note that she had run directly into Remus's shoulder, and then cursed under her breath. Without meeting his eyes, she attempted to move past him only to have her forearm grasped.

"Please, Hermione," he pleaded. "I just want to apologize."

She stared into his eyes angrily and raised her arm. "Let go of me."

"I'm sorry," he stammered, immediately releasing her. "I just wanted to talk."

Clearing her throat, she shrugged and folded her arms to her chest. "Then I would make it quick if I were you – in case someone sees us together and thinks I'm sleeping with _you_."

"Just hear me out," Lupin murmured, raising his hands in surrender. "Please."

Without relaxing her defensive posture, she raised one eyebrow in response.

"Firstly, let me say that I am incredibly sorry for what occurred last night," he emphasized. "I had no intention of offending you, and I regret that I acted so hastily. I should not have thought _that_ of you, but I was merely concerned about your well-being."

"Perhaps you should be a bit less _concerned_, then," Hermione snapped, averting her gaze to the wall.

Remus closed his eyes for a brief moment and dipped his head. "I am truly sorry. I understand that you are upset with me, but please do not let that affect your studies. Please reconsider your decision."

She stared at the stonework and then shook her head. "No. No, I'm sorry, but I can't. Good day, Professor."

"Hermione, wait!" he exclaimed, grabbing hold of her arm once again. "You can't just _drop_ Defense! Not in today's –"

"Hermione?"

_Fuck_. The witch yanked out of the Marauder's grip and tiredly turned to face her best friend.

"You're dropping Defense?" Harry questioned, glancing in confusion between the two of them. "I don't understand. Why would you –"

"Why don't you ask _Professor_ _Lupin_ that question," she interrupted bitterly. "He seems to be full of answers lately."

Remus grimaced at her use of his professional title and then met her with a distraught expression. "Hermione, please."

"Oh, so you don't want to tell him about how you accused me of – what was it, now? – _engaging_ in an unsanctioned _relationship_ with Professor Snape?" she queried, folding her arms.

"What?" Harry gasped, staring at her in disbelief.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the injured look on the werewolf's face and focused her gaze on the young wizard. "_That's_ why Professor McGonagall came to fetch me last night. The _something_ she wanted to discuss with me was the fact that Remus here had alleged that Professor Snape and I have been sexually involved."

The boy's eyes widened as they darted toward his father's friend. "That's impossible! Not Hermione – she would never… No, _not_ Hermione."

As the witch pointedly stared at the man, Remus sighed and shook his head. "I will apologize as many times as it takes, Hermione, but it wasn't because I wanted to think that of _you –"_

_"_So you wanted to think that of _him_, then?"

"No!" he growled in frustration, glancing at the ceiling. "I just… everything just made sense! I tried to think of anything else that could fit the circumstances, but with the information I had at the time, I couldn't."

"Because he loaned me a book, and my cat likes him?" she sneered.

Lupin pressed his lips into a thin line and then ran a hand through his hair. "No offense meant to anyone, but it is a bit odd that your cat frequents his quarters."

The witch rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, Crooks also used to follow _Sirius_ around, and I don't recall ever sleeping with _him_."

As Harry winced at the reference to his departed godfather, the Defense instructor shook his head defensively. "You called him by his first name!"

Hermione flinched slightly at the new assertion.

"You _knew_ it was his birthday!" the man continued, gesturing with one hand.

"Because Professor McGonagall told me it was!" she countered hotly. "And I call _you_ by _your_ first name! Does that mean we're romantically involved, _Remus_?"

The werewolf let out a huff. "It doesn't mean anything more than we're friends."

"Exactly my point! He and I are _friends_!"

"But he's –"

"He's what? My professor? An Order member? Old enough to be my father?" the girl questioned. "Last I checked, so are you!"

"Hermione," Lupin sighed, staring at her pointedly.

At seeing his expression, she straightened her posture and raised her chin as she spoke in a calmer tone. "But he's a Slytherin. But he's a Death Eater. That's what you meant to say, isn't it? It's exactly as Professor Snape said last night."

"No!" he protested, stepping forward when she appeared ready to flee. "That's not what I meant at all! And it certainly wasn't because I thought you were just acting out –"

_Oh god. No!_ The witch widened her eyes in fear, knowing full well that Harry was still standing beside her, and she tried to interrupt the man, but he finished speaking before she could manage anything intelligible.

"—after having been sexually assaulted!"

"Hermione!" Harry cried in concern.

"You son-of-a-bitch," she hissed at Remus as hot tears of frustration formed in her eyes.

The greying wizard paled suddenly at her reaction and Harry's expression. He swallowed slowly and met Hermione's angry eyes as he whispered, "He didn't know?"

"No!" she replied. "He didn't know! He wasn't supposed to know, and neither, frankly, were you!"

Lupin slowly closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands. "Merlin, I am so sorry."

"Hermione," Harry repeated, moving toward her as she wiped at her eyes. "You were…"

"Raped?" she snarled, glaring at Remus before taking in a deep breath and wrapping her arms about her waist.

"What –"

"No offense, Harry, but I really do not want to talk about that right now," she interrupted. "Nor do I want to talk about the rest of it. I'm dropping Defense, so please respect that decision –"

Remus dropped his hand and sighed. "But, Hermione, you need –"

"No," the girl shook her head. "I don't _need_ your course. I'm getting more adequate Defense instruction through my lessons with Professor Snape, and I can still sit the Defense NEWT next year with only private tutoring of the material."

The werewolf exhaled slowly and shrugged his shoulders. "I would have been more than happy to provide you with private instruction myself."

_Unbelievable_! Hermione took in a heated breath and balled her hands into fists. "I need training in how to fight Death Eaters, and no one knows anything more about that than Professor Snape. If I only wanted training against grindylows and boggarts, maybe then I would have come to you. Now, if you would excuse me…"

Fully aware of two sets of eyes locked onto her form, the witch spun on her heel and stormed down the corridor. After rounding the next corner, she paused long enough to ascertain that neither of them were following her and then ran determinedly toward the Room of Requirement.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

At the sound of his classroom door squeaking open, Severus looked up from the shelf he was currently restocking. Wiping his hands on his knees, he rose to his feet and grabbed hold of the shelf until the slight feeling of wooziness subsided. Upon poking his head out of the storeroom, he scowled at seeing Lupin nervously crossing the room.

"If you've come to extend another olive branch, I am not interested," he sneered, crossing his arms. "My head hasn't fully recovered from the last one you hit me with."

Remus grimaced. "I can't explain how sorry I am –"

"And I have no wish to hear you try."

The Gryffindor sighed and rubbed his temples. "I need to ask you about Hermione."

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes. "I have no idea as to her current whereabouts, but then again, I haven't checked my bed sheets since last I vacated them several hours ago."

"I don't need to know _where_ she is," he shook his head. "I just…"

The Potions Master raised an eyebrow at his anxious expression.

"She withdrew from Defense," Lupin murmured.

"She _what_?" he hissed.

Perching against the nearest table, the werewolf let out a slow breath. "I take it that you did not instruct her to do so, then."

"Of course I didn't!" Snape snapped, crossing his arms. "What in Merlin's name would have possessed me to do so? The more practice she has, the better prepared she will be!"

"You didn't tell her that she would be better off under your tutelage than my own?" the man pressed.

The Slytherin narrowed his gaze. "Despite my personal opinion… no, I did not tell her such a thing. She came to that solid conclusion on her own."

"Minerva came to tell me this morning that she had approved Hermione's request," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And I thought perhaps I could convince her to reconsider – "

"Minerva, or Miss Granger?" Snape asked, hoping for the former but knowing it would be the latter.

"Hermione," he responded, grimacing at the angry expression on the other wizard's face. "She told me that she wouldn't, though, because she was receiving more than adequate instruction from you and that she could sit the NEWT based on that alone. You didn't inform her of that?"

"No," the dark-haired man replied. "But Miss Granger's predilection for reading likely has made her just as much of an authority on NEWT eligibility as you or I."

After pausing for a moment, the Potions Master strode toward the door into the corridor only to be stopped by the other professor's voice.

"If you're planning to shout at her, now really isn't the best time."

Severus slowly turned and fixed him with a scrutinizing glare. "I was planning on _shouting_ at Minerva –"

"Oh."

"—but please: _do_ tell why it would not be the best time."

Remus swallowed slowly and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. "I…erm…may have revealed…sensitive information while Harry was there in the hallway."

Snape's eyes widened and he gritted his teeth as he snarled, "You did _what_?"

"I got carried away in the moment, and I didn't know that he didn't know!" he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Why the fuck would _he_ have known?"

The Gryffindor shrugged defensively. "Because he's her _best_ friend! I just figured she would have told him!"

"Oh, because you were just bursting at the seams to tell those three fuckwads about _your_ issue, weren't you?" Severus shouted. "Did you happen to have that conversation in the fucking hallway where _anyone_ could overhear? I bet you're just torn up over the fact that you didn't have a friend with a direct connection to the Dark Lord with whom you could share your secrets – oh, wait; my mistake. You _did_, and you fucking tried to _kill_ him, didn't you?"

As Remus visibly shrunk against the table in response to his outburst, the Slytherin Head clenched his hands into fists and attempted to control his temper. _He's not worth Azkaban… not worth Azkaban… not fucking worth Azkaban!_

"Yet again, _I'm_ the one who has to fix _your_ bloody mess, so you don't get the lot of us murdered before the boy even _has_ his chance!" With that, he huffed loudly, ripped open his door, and slammed it behind him as he set off in search of the Deputy Headmistress.

By the time he reached the staircase, the fog of his anger had dissipated enough that he realized he should check on Hermione. Upon discovering that she was in the midst of blasting fighting dummies into tiny pieces, he decided it was best to give her some time alone while he spoke with Minerva.

As he reached the Entrance Hall, he happened to catch a glimpse of the witch through the partially open door to the Great Hall. She appeared to be on her way out as she was setting her napkin on her plate and pushing back her chair. Resigning himself to wait until she was through chatting with the rest of the staff, he folded his arms to his chest and stood in front of the row of hourglasses.

A moment later, his attention was pulled toward the staircase where Harry Potter had just appeared. The boy immediately froze upon catching sight of Snape, and he seemed visibly shaken. He glanced behind him to the ceiling before returning his eyes to the professor and taking one slow step forward.

"Potter," Severus snapped with a glare. "Not _one_ word… to anyone… _ever_. Clear?"

Harry swallowed heavily and then gave a shaky nod. As the man continued to glare at him, he descended the few remaining steps and nervously made his way toward the Great Hall. He paused momentarily in front of the Slytherin Head and opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and continued through the doorway, passing McGonagall with a muffled, half-hearted greeting.

Eyeing the boy with concern, Minerva sighed and stepped out into the Entrance Hall. At seeing her colleague, however, she donned a slight smirk and cleared her throat. "Severus, you're looming. There's never a pleasant conversation to be had when you're looming."

As she continued toward the staircase, he fell in step behind her and remained silent until they were safely ensconced within the confines of her office.

"Now, what is it you need?" she asked, settling into her chair.

"You approved Hermione's withdrawal," the wizard stated accusingly, crossing his arms.

McGonagall sighed and folded her hands in her lap. "Yes, I did. She feels as though she has no say in her own life anymore, and so when she made the request, I granted it. Even without Defense, she's still taking more courses than anyone else in Gryffindor."

"It's not her bloody course-load that concerns me at the moment," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's not even the three hours of extra practice she'll be giving up a week."

"Then what is it?"

Severus dropped his hand to his side. "The Dark Lord _will_ hear about this, and he will want to know _why_."

"So tell him you don't want her learning Defense," she shrugged, watching him as he began to pace. "Wouldn't that satisfy him – removing one of Potter's defenders?"

"No," he murmured, running his hands through his hair. "In his mind, I've _already_ done that. He sees her as his servant already, so he will not be thrilled to find out I'm impeding in the training of one of his own."

The witch raised one eyebrow and placed her elbow on the armrest. "Well, if he wants her trained, inform him you've been giving her lessons."

He grimaced as he made another path along the width of her office. "He did not command me to do so – and I have not asked his permission to follow the Headmaster's command if I were to claim that. I could make the argument that I can train her _beginning_ this term, but the fact remains that she'll be drawing unwanted attention to herself. The students – _and_ _staff_ – will wonder why she withdrew and ask questions. Her perceived usefulness to the Dark Lord hinges upon her perceived usefulness to Potter."

"So you need a reason to excuse her from Defense that will seem plausible and still keep her cemented at his side." McGonagall sighed and rested her head against the back of her chair. "Is this what you and Albus do during your secret meetings? This is exhausting."

"Get used to it," the man sighed, staring at the floor as he paced.

She glanced at him curiously. "Pardon?"

"You're still Deputy of the Order, are you not?" he replied. "There has always been the chance that you will have to do this one day."

Grunting, she shook her head. "I sincerely hope that Albus outlives the War."

"As do I," Severus mumbled, pausing near the fireplace. "But you had best be prepared."

Minerva groaned softly and closed her eyes. "Potter will be the hardest to convince –"

"The only thing Potter needs to be convinced of is keeping his mouth shut," he growled. "Something Lupin seems incapable of doing."

At feeling her eyes settle on his backside, he sighed and turned towards her. "The mongrel thought it wise to confront her in the hallway whilst the boy was within earshot."

"He what?" she snapped, pushing forward to lean her elbows on her desk. "I told him to leave her be!"

"Perhaps we should have him neutered," Snape suggested. "It might improve his hearing."

The woman let out a heated breath. "Is Hermione alright?"

He shrugged in response and rubbed his forehead. "She's… coping."

"Coping how?" she queried, rising slowly from her chair.

"Dueling practice," he answered. "She seems alright for the moment."

The Gryffindor witch sighed. "For the moment, perhaps. When the anger's gone, the tears begin, you know. And if she injures herself, you had better make sure she…"

McGonagall trailed off as the pained expression on his face suddenly morphed into one of contemplation. "What are you thinking?"

Ignoring her for the moment, Severus thought back to the night he had been injured. Hermione had been panicked to the point of hyperventilation when all she had had to do was fetch him a potion. Even though she had not known the true extent of his injuries, she had all but gone to pieces trying to apologize and point the blame at herself. He mentally contrasted that with the Deputy Headmistress's reaction at seeing his wounds. Minerva had been just as concerned as the girl, but had approached him in a calm manner and had set about righting the damage as best she could.

"As the school's matron nurse, Poppy is qualified to give Mediwizard training, is she not?" he asked, glancing at the witch.

She gave a slow nod. "Yes, she has taken assistants in the past. It's not enough to qualify someone for the Healing and Rehabilitation Exams, but the students she has trained in the past were permitted to enter directly into the second year of the Ministry Healer program."

"I don't care about the HAREs or the Healer program," Snape responded, waving his hand dismissively. "I just needed to ascertain that Poppy would be willing –"

"To take on Hermione?" she interrupted.

"How many times has Potter injured himself over the years? It's only going to get worse from here on out. He's going to need a sodding nursemaid following him around, and Weasley sure as hell isn't going to do it," he argued. "And the Dark Lord is not foolish enough to believe that his followers will not sustain injury. Narcissa Malfoy has had some formal training, but she married before she even completed her first year – and there is no guarantee that she will be capable of practicing her skill for much longer."

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Minerva rubbed her chin pensively and then exhaled loudly. "Will Hermione even want to do this?"

"She _needs_ some training in the art," he pressed. "We're at war. There will be injuries and blood, and she will need to know how to react without shouting or fumbling all over the place. You were there – you saw how well she handled it."

She nodded in understanding, but frowned. "Severus, the girl is overwhelmed as it is – you cannot honestly expect her to keep up an assistanceship in addition to her studies, your lessons, _and_ her prefect duties. It's too much! The only students I've approved for this in the past had their hearts set on becoming Healers and had less than five courses in their schedule. Hermione will _still_ have seven."

The Potions Master let out a tired sigh and leaned against the mantel. After rubbing his forehead for a long moment, he cleared his throat. "Healer training requires extensive work in Potions, Charms, and Herbology."

"As well as Transfiguration," she added curtly, mildly offended at having her subject left out of the list. "What's your point?"

"The staff bends over backwards for Potter and his pals all the time," he explained. "What if we were to combine her studies with her assistanceship? She still sits those classes, but working with Poppy would count in place of her coursework."

"Well, that's a thought," the witch conceded, drumming her fingertips against the surface of her desk. "I certainly would be willing to accommodate her, and I'm sure that Filius and Pomona would agree to it. The only question is whether or not _you_ would, seeing as you're so often disgusted by our tendency to bend over backwards."

Severus smirked and tilted his head. "It certainly would take a great deal of finesse on your part. I imagine a bribe of some sort would be involved. Perhaps exclusion from escort duty for all of this term and next year?"

"Oh, you are a sly bastard, aren't you?" she quipped, quirking her lips. With a shake of her head, she sighed and reclaimed her seat. "If Hermione agrees to it, I will run it by Poppy and then pitch it to the staff at the table this evening. I expect you'll be your charming self."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Reducto!" Hermione shouted, instinctively ducking as one of the dummies exploded into large splinters. As the Room continued to provide her with more of them, she launched spell after spell – some verbal, some non – until suddenly one managed to shield itself.

The witch swung back towards the form, automatically casting another hex, and then squawked in surprise at realizing it was not made of wood after all. She watched concernedly as the Slytherin Head, with a wave of his fingers, sent her strike fizzling harmlessly into the floor. "I'm sorry!"

Severus shook his head, and pushed away from the pillar he had been leaning against. "Not everyone on the battlefield will be your enemy. Think before you attack."

"I know, I know," she panted, wiping the sweat from her face with the back of her hand. "But you weren't supposed to be there. How did you get in?"

"I suppose I made the right request," he murmured, glancing about at the handful of fighting dummies that had become still. "You were doing well, though I imagine it will be a bit more difficult when your targets are actually returning fire."

The girl nodded and tiredly stowed away her wand. "I just needed some… I just needed…"

Her voice wavered as her bottom lip began to tremble. "It's…Harry… he knows."

"I am aware," Snape exhaled. "Lupin came to me after your conversation."

"I don't want to take his course," she stated, her eyes stinging as she shook her head. "If you're here to demand that I continue, then I suppose I will _have_ to, but –"

"You do not need to do so," he interrupted. "Minerva and I have worked out an alternative."

She took in a relieved breath, but then turned away from him and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She had pushed everything out of her mind while she was fighting, but now it was all coming back and she was determined not to cry. Especially not in front of him, and not after what had been said the night before.

"Hermione –"

"I'm fine!" she spat over her shoulder.

With a sigh, Severus shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Would you prefer it if I left?"

The girl tensed slightly as she considered the question. Lowering her hands to wrap her arms about her waist, she gave a muffled groan as she whispered, "I don't know… No."

Eyeing her with concern, the wizard stepped forward and touched her shoulder. At the contact, a strangled cry burst forth from her and she leaned forward slightly, squeezing her eyes shut. "He wasn't supposed to know."

"I know."

Hermione furiously wiped at the few tears that had dared to fall. "I didn't _want_ him to know."

"I know." As she covered her face with her hands, he donned a grimace and moved his arm along the width of her shoulders. When she did not, however, seize upon the opportunity to envelope him in a hug as she usually did, he narrowed his eyes. Knowing full well that she was crying despite her attempts to hide it, he swallowed in discomfort and gently pulled her against his chest, slipping his arm down to the middle of her back.

Coughing slightly in surprise, the brunette moved her hands to grip onto the loose fabric of his teaching robes and pressed her forehead into his shoulder. When his other hand came up to cradle the back of her head, she closed her eyes and turned so that her cheek rested against him.

"I could hex him if you like," Severus offered a long moment later.

The girl gave a quiet sniffle. "Which one—Remus or Harry?"

Snorting softly, he pulled some hair from her face and glanced down at her. "Must I choose?"

She smiled briefly and then shook her head against him. "You'd get in trouble."

"_Only_ if I were caught," he shrugged. "I'm very good at not getting caught."

Hermione laughed quietly and wiped at the remaining tears on her face. "I think Remus is already punishing himself. He kept trying to apologize, and I just kept yelling at him… and insulted his teaching."

"So I heard," the man mumbled. "I can assure you he received worse from me, will he will undoubtedly have issues sitting after Minerva gets through with him."

She gave a mournful sigh and attempted to duck her head, but was prevented from doing it when he caught her chin.

"You should not feel guilty," he stated. "Perhaps if we rub his nose in it enough, he'll figure out what not to do."

The witch giggled once and looked up at the Slytherin. "It's not like he messed on the carpets."

"Same principle," Snape shrugged.

She snorted and then returned her head to his shoulder. "I told Harry that I didn't want to talk about it..."

"But he's going to ask," the Potions Master finished, tightening his hold on her when he felt her shiver. "Obviously, you cannot tell him the entire truth, but you can tell him something… if you are ready to do so."

"I don't know," she whispered. "It would be easier to talk to him before tonight, though, wouldn't it?"

"It would," he agreed, "but that does not mean you need to do so immediately."

Taking in a deep breath, Hermione nodded and gripped his robes once again. A minute later, she glanced up at him. "What alternative did you work out?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

A few hours later, Hermione stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor Common Room. She tensed slightly as she spotted Harry slowly rising from the sofa. She had known he would more than likely be waiting for her, but she still could not prevent the slight taste of bile that rose in her throat.

"Hermione," the boy stated softly. "Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly and glanced about the room, noticing another student working on homework at one of the tables. Clearing her throat, she stepped towards her friend. "Not here."

Agreeing, the wizard gestured toward the boys' staircase and then led her up to his room. After closing the door behind them, he cast a _Muffliato_ and then hauled one of the wooden chairs over to the edge of his bed. As he sat on the chair, he watched the girl perch on the end of his mattress.

"I, erm, really don't know what to say," the witch murmured a minute later, staring at her lap.

"Say anything," Harry urged, leaning forward. "Just say something, please. Maybe you could start with what happened – I mean, not in detail, but just… well, you know what I mean… I hope you do, at least. Merlin, I'm really bad at this."

"It's alright," she reassured, pulling her feet up onto the bed. Sitting cross-legged, she began fiddling with her hands and exhaled loudly. "It happened this summer – you know, when they came to my house."

"It was a Death Eater?"

Hermione sucked in air and nodded slowly. She felt guilty about labeling Severus as such, but it was not a lie. He still donned the mask and robes, even if his loyalties lay elsewhere.

"Who was it?"

With a grimace, she shook her head.

"It wasn't –"

She silenced his question with a glare. "Don't you dare ask me if it was either Professor Snape or Draco."

"Sorry," Harry sighed sheepishly before frowning. "Mr. Weasley told us that the Order collected you and your parents before…"

He trailed off when she began to shake her head again.

"The _Order_ wasn't there," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "The _only_ Order member who did _anything_ for my family and I that night was Professor Snape. _He's_ the one who rescued them… and Crooks, even."

"I don't understand," he frowned, "if he was there, why didn't he stop –"

"Because _I_ wasn't there." The witch straightened slightly as she explained. "I had a fight with my parents that afternoon – they wanted to withdraw me from Hogwarts, actually, because they didn't think it was safe. I had tried to keep the _Prophet_ from them, but they found one, and it scared them. I left the house – I needed time to think, so I just left them there.

"Professor Snape went to my house and got my parents to safety before Bellatrix arrived there, but… _they_ found me first. By the time he got there, there wasn't much he could do without completely blowing his cover… but at the first moment he could, he brought me here."

"And at Halloween? They didn't –"

"No, not then," she replied quietly.

He nodded slowly before asking, "But they were just trying again? Voldemort wanted you for the same reason then?"

"I suppose you could say that."

Harry stared at her with a concerned expression and then leaned his elbows on his knees. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

Blinking tears out of her eyes, she glanced away and shrugged. "I didn't want anyone to know. It's not exactly something you want to share with people."

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He swallowed before nervously moving to sit beside her on the bed and slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"Besides, you've had so much else to worry about," she mumbled, resting her head on his shoulder. "I was okay on my own."

"But you shouldn't have had to deal with it alone," he protested. "It's my fault –"

"Stop saying that!" Hermione cried, grabbing the sides of his face. "It wasn't _your_ fault, and I wasn't alone. I had people to talk to. I had help."

The boy sighed and captured her hands, pulling them down and holding them within his. "I'm still sorry."

She smiled lightly and nodded. "I know you are. You don't need to be… but thank you."

Scratching the side of his head, he asked, "Is this, erm, why you were avoiding Ron?"

"In a manner of speaking," the witch sighed, drawing her hands into her own lap. "I mean, at first, it was only because of what happened that I was dodging him, but now, after seeing him with Lavvy-poo… I just can't see that I could have been that for him."

"Well, I don't really think he enjoys all of the… Won-won rubbish," he shrugged. "I think he's just putting up with it."

Hermione let out a soft grunt and lay back against the mattress. "I thought we had an anti-Weasley pact, Potter."

The wizard snorted quietly and tossed her an apologetic glance. "Sorry. You know, Ginny was practically bouncing off the walls about going to Dean's house."

"I know," she nodded, pulling one of the pillows underneath her head. "I read her novel-length letters."

When he groaned and stared at the floor, the girl cleared her throat and turned onto her side. "Harry? Can I ask you something?"

"It's probably fair," he mumbled. "I did break the pact first."

"About Ginny – I mean, last year you still seemed to dislike her," she stated slowly, "so I guess I was just wondering why you suddenly changed your mind?"

With a small frown, the boy rubbed his scar. "I don't know really. I mean, sometimes I'm not sure that I have… but then other times, I realize that I've just been thinking about her. I dream about her sometimes, and whenever she's in the same room, it's like I can't keep myself from looking at her. I don't really understand it, either."

The witch blew out a slow breath and returned to lying on her back. "Well, I doubt anyone ever really does."

Harry sighed and pulled his feet onto the bed. "So you and Snape, huh?"

Glaring, Hermione grabbed the pillow from beneath her and swung it at his head.

"Oi!" he cried, shielding himself with his hands. "I was kidding! Seriously, I don't know what Remus could have been thinking when he said that."

"That's because he _wasn't_ thinking," she griped, tucking the pillow back under her head.

The boy glanced back at her. "You and Snape are actually friends?"

"That generally tends to happen when someone repeatedly saves your life," she sighed, "and it's Professor Snape."

He winced slightly before smirking. "Does he actually know that you consider him a friend?"

"Yes," she snapped.

"And he's been giving you lessons?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did you honestly think that I learned everything I've shown you just by reading?"

"Erm, yeah, actually I did."

Snorting softly, she ran her hands over her face and shook her head. After a moment, she pulled herself up into a seated position. Taking in a deep breath, she met his eyes. "Promise me that you'll keep this to yourself."

"Hermione, I'm not going to tell anyone," he responded. "I already told Sn—Professor Snape that I wouldn't."

Though she was surprised by the admission, the girl continued to hold her gaze. "I don't just mean telling people."

"You mean keeping it from Voldemort," Harry inferred; his shoulders slumping.

"If _he_ sees it, Professor Snape is as good as dead," she argued. "He doesn't deserve that, so please promise me…"

"I will do everything I can," he nodded slowly.

"Thank you," she whispered, throwing her arms about his neck and tucking her head under his chin. As he patted her back awkwardly, she bit down on her bottom lip. '_Did I say too much?_'

**'No. If you said any less, he would have kept asking questions.'**

Hermione breathed deeply and pulled away from her friend. '_Thank you._'

**'I did not interfere with anything.'**

_'No, but you were there.'_

**'I was merely honoring your request.'**

Frowning slightly, she rubbed her arms. '_You can silence it again if you'd like_.'

There was a long moment of silence before she heard Severus speak again. '**The carriages have arrived**.'

'_Oh_.' The witch rose from the bed and crossed over to the window. '_I shall see you at supper, then_?'

When no response occurred, she sighed and pressed her forehead against the glass. She had truly appreciated that he had agreed to listen in on her conversation because she had been worried that she might say the wrong thing. He had not said anything, but she had still felt better knowing he was there. She knew that he was doing it because she asked, but after he had held her that afternoon, the part of her that wanted to believe everything McGonagall had told her also wanted to believe that he was helping her because he could – not just because he had to.

"Hermione, is something wrong?"

Pulling her head from the window, she glanced back at her friend and shook her head. She then gestured to the tiny blips of light visible through the snowfall. "The carriages are here."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

After the meal, Hermione snuck away from the throng of students heading back to Gryffindor Tower. Having had her fill of jovial conversation with her friends and smug looks from Lavender as she wound herself around Ron's waist, the witch needed a moment to herself before she returned for more. As she walked through the quiet halls on the fourth floor, she lamented the fact that the quiet days of the holiday break were over.

_Quiet days? Hardly. _

At the sound of rapid footsteps behind her, the girl swung around and withdrew her wand only to be grabbed around the waist and yanked into a dark alcove. The hex that had been on the tip of her tongue vanished as soon as she was released and found herself staring into the face of Draco Malfoy.

"We need to talk," he growled.

Stepping back from him, she folded her arms to her chest. "Is it utterly impossible for you to have a conversation with someone without throwing their vertebrae out of alignment?"

Ignoring the question, the blonde wizard dug in the pocket of his robes and pulled something from it. "I want to know what the fuck _this_ is."

Hermione swallowed hesitantly as she glanced down at the smooth, purple rock he was holding. "It's an amethyst."

"I know it's a sodding amethyst!" he hissed. "Why did you give it to me?"

Her heart still racing, she shrugged. "Why do you think _I_ was the one who gave it to you?"

Draco donned an irritated sneer. "You're as subtle as a bloody hippogriff, Granger. It was in my pocket when I arrived home, and I certainly didn't put it there. _You_ did when you bumped into me at the carriages. You don't say, 'Happy Christmas' after bumping into someone if you want them to forget it."

"Fine," she huffed, dropping her arms to her sides. "So I gave it to you."

"Why?"

The witch took in a deep breath and averted her eyes from his demanding glare. "If you can't figure it out on your own, then I feel sorry for you."

When she attempted to move past him, he grabbed her again and pushed her back against the wall. Pointing his wand at her throat, he tilted his head dangerously. "Wrong answer, Granger. Now, I'm going to give you one more chance. Why did you put the fucking stone in my pocket?"

Exhaling loudly, she rolled her eyes. "Because it was Christmas, you git."

His eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "You expect me to believe that was a _Christmas gift_ from _you_? The dirty mudblood traitor wants to be friends with the Death Eater heir? Or did you just enjoy your afternoon swim so much that you wanted to thank me?"

"Oh, shut _up_," she groaned, shoving him away from her. "I gave it to you because you look like you need all the help you can get."

"And you thought a shiny rock would _help_ me?"

Hermione tightened her eyes in contempt. "Fine, if you don't want it – give it back."

As she reached for the stone, he wrapped his fingers around it and yanked it away from her. "No. It's mine."

"Then don't belittle it," she snapped, pushing past him. "And I suggest you read your Ancient Runes text if you want to know more."

With that, she left the glowering boy and set off for her dormitory to spend the night listening to the tales of Ginny's holiday.


	53. Behavior Most Unsuitable

**A/N: Sorry for the delay - lots of strange happenings in these parts. But thank you for the continued reviews and nudges!**

**On an unrelated note/interesting side fact - as part of my plotting for this story, I set up a class schedule for Hermione and a teaching schedule for Severus because I'm slightly OCD about details and I didn't want to contradict myself somewhere. I had been filling the latter in as I went along, but today I was determined to figure out how it all fit together. In this story, I have him teaching 28 classes at approximately 36 hours a week of in class time. Curious as to how this compared to JKR's universe, I started working that out and realized that at the bare minimum she has him in the actual classroom with students 46 hours (34 classes) a week! That doesn't even begin to cover the amount of time he puts in grading homework and preparing for class. Even without all of the spying and brewing and Head of Slytherin duties, I would understand his bad temper. Either he's been getting by with a Time Turner, or he just doesn't sleep.**

**Now, I'm not going to lie... this chapter got a little...erm... we'll go with awkward.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 53**

"Alright, Miss Granger," Poppy muttered as she appeared from the storeroom. "There aren't any exams today, so I think we'll be safe from the deluge of tummy aches and dizzy spells at least long enough for us to have a conversation. Come have a seat in my office, and I'll send for tea."

Nodding, the girl followed the matron nurse into the large room beside the infirmary and then perched on the proffered armchair. She waited quietly while the woman summoned a house-elf and put in an order for tea.

"Well, then," the Healer smiled, leaning back in her chair. "I hear that Professor Snape has finally agreed to this arrangement."

With a small laugh, Hermione nodded.

"Be prepared, though," the nurse cautioned as a silver tea service appeared on her desk top. "I will not put it past him to swoop up here and critique your Potions work. He generally assists me in keeping my stores well-stocked, and he does expect a certain standard of performance. Based upon your record thus far, though, I have no doubts on your ability to complete simple brews."

"Oh, well, thank you," she smiled, leaning forward to accept a steaming teacup.

"Shall we discuss scheduling, then?" Pomfrey asked before taking a small sip. "I understand you've withdrawn from Defense to give you more time here."

The Gryffindor nodded, pulling out her assignment book from her bag. "I now have Tuesday and Thursday morning open until ten, and Fridays until the lunch hour."

"When else?" the woman queried as she wrote down the information. "Afternoons? Evenings?"

Hermione blew out a deep breath and scratched her eyebrow as she peered at her already crowded weekly schedule. "Erm, I don't really have a lot of time during the afternoon – maybe a half-hour before supper on Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Thursday after three-thirty. Evenings, erm… well how late would I be here?"

"Eight, nine, ten, eleven," Poppy shrugged with a slight smile. "Welcome to the medical profession – it really depends on the night, I'm afraid. If the infirmary is busy, I will be unable to provide new instruction in a structured setting, so you may have to entertain yourself with other homework if you are not yet able to assist me. Other nights, you may be busy yourself with a patient. I promise not to fetch you for any of the middle of the night incidents, but should you find yourself here past curfew, you will, of course, be excused from any point removals or detentions – despite what some may claim."

Ignoring the obvious reference to Professor Snape, the girl's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean I will actually be responsible for treating students?"

"Eventually. With supervision, of course. I'll not set you loose on anyone untrained."

"Oh, well, erm…" She shifted nervously in her seat and peered back at her schedule, keeping in mind her lessons with Severus, session with Harry, and nightly rounds. "I guess I could be available Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday after supper."

"Ah," the mediwitch nodded. "That should work well. I'll expect you here at eight o'clock sharp in the morning. Tuesday mornings, you will do a bit of cleaning to practice your sterilization and purification charms – there will not always be house-elves available in every situation, and it would be best to be at the top of your form. Thursdays, I will have you conduct an inventory of the storeroom to make sure it remains fully stocked every week. I will walk you through it this time, of course, and supervise you next week. I'll be available for questions if you need help with it down the road, but I expect you to keep it up on your own, is that understood?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now, Friday mornings and the evenings will provide more time for actual lessons and practice. Tonight we will begin with the cleaning charms I mentioned previously so that you will be prepared for that starting next week, and tomorrow we will go through the simplest mending charms. Likely we will continue with that on Friday morning. Saturday evenings, I expect, will be when you focus on brewing the potions needed to replenish the stock for the coming week. I do not expect you to work Sundays, unless you have more brewing to finish. You need at least one night to rest." Poppy cleared her throat and reached behind her to grab a large, worn volume from the bookshelf. "There are a number of books I will have you read throughout the term, but this is considered the 'go-to' guide for general healing. You may borrow this to read when you like, but I ask that it not leave the infirmary. Since you are interested in becoming a Healer, I would suggest investing in your own copy, but it is up to you as it is a bit spendy."

Blinking rapidly as she processed all of the information being thrown at her, Hermione glanced down at the cover to see the barely visible title, _The Medi-witch's Helping Handbook_. "Oh, I already have a copy."

"You do?" the nurse asked in surprise before shaking her head. "I shouldn't really be so shocked, should I? With your reputation for books, if Healing is what you were interested in, you would have scoured the shelves for relevant material. You've probably had a decent head-start on your reading, haven't you?"

"No, actually," the girl blushed. "I just recently came to the decision, so I haven't actually had a chance to _scour_ the shelves yet."

"Oh? Well, that book is an excellent place to begin."

_Well done, Luna_. The girl smiled and briefly eyed the clock. She had barely been there for half an hour and already she felt overwhelmed.

"Your first class is at ten, correct? And how far do you have to walk?"

Hermione nodded. "Well, it's History of Magic so it's just down the hall from here."

"Excellent," Madam Pomfrey smiled as she pulled open her bottom drawer and withdrew a sizeable folder. "Then we'll have enough time to get through some of the policy."

"Some?"

The mediwitch chuckled softly as she flipped open to the first page. "Oh, don't worry, Granger. We'll get through the rest this evening."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Hermione, are you asleep?"

"Unnnngggghhh," the brunette groaned, attempting to bury her face deeper into her pillow. "Yes."

Ginny snorted and rolled over in her bed. "I can't sleep."

"Why?"

The younger witch propped herself up on one elbow. "I keep thinking about Dean."

With an agonized moan, Hermione draped an arm over her face. "Gin, I'm tired. I don't want to hear about your latest snogging session."

"Well, I wasn't going to talk about that, but now that you mention it, it was a bit different. Really good – like really, really –"

"Ginny!"

"Sorry," the redhead giggled, before sighing. "But it was different – like he was a bit angry with me or something. I don't know what I did – I mean if it's because George went with me to the party, that wasn't my fault. Dad wouldn't let me go without an escort, and I wasn't about to take Ron or Percy. Bill had a date with Fleur, Charlie had already left, and it was Fred's night to work the shop."

The older girl dropped her hand against the mattress and rolled her eyes. "I don't think he's upset about George."

"Well, I mean he did snog one of Dean's neighbors during the fireworks –"

"What?" Hermione gasped. "You didn't tell me that."

Her friend laughed softly and nodded. "I had to hit him with a snowball before Dean's mum turned around. It was so embarrassing, but he agreed not to tell Dad about my sitting on Dean's lap if I didn't tell Mum about his kissing a complete stranger. You don't think he could be mad about that, do you?"

"Dean? I don't think so. If it had been his sister or cousin or something, maybe."

"Then what is it? I didn't do anything else."

The bushy-haired witch gave a sad laugh and rubbed her temple. "Think about it, Gin – what was the first thing you did when you walked into the castle two nights ago?"

"I hugged you and Harry," she replied casually.

"And you used to blatantly fancy whom again?"

"Oh," Ginny whispered. "You think he's jealous of Harry?"

"For Merlin's sake, Weasley – are you that dense?" Mathina growled from her bed across the room.

"But –"

Hermione exhaled loudly. "Harry spent the majority of the holiday at the Burrow, and you said out loud – in front of Dean – that you had missed him."

"I said _we_ missed him!" the girl protested, sitting up in bed. "We – as in the _entire_ _family_ missed him! Not me personally! And I don't like Harry like that anymore!"

"You don't?"

"No!" she cried before taking in a large sigh. "I mean, I thought maybe I did for a while, but then when I thought Dean and I were through, Harry was hugging me and I kept thinking that it felt wrong and that I just wanted him to be Dean instead."

"But you were practically obsessed with Harry – for years! Everyone knew it."

Ginny shrugged and threw up her arms. "People change, Hermione – I changed. Just because he was my first crush doesn't mean I'm going to be head over heels for him for the rest of my life! Harry didn't give me the time of day, but Dean was there. I got to know him, and I like being with him. I don't know what it is exactly I feel for Harry anymore, but it isn't what I feel for Dean! I love hi – holy shite!"

Wide-eyed, Hermione watched as her friend covered her cheeks with her hands and sank back against her pillow. "Gin, you're not even sixteen yet."

"So? Dad said he knew Mum was the one when she told him off in the middle of third year, and they had an understanding by the end of sixth."

"What happened to not being ready to get married?" the older witch asked grumpily.

"Well, I'm not," the redhead responded. "Loving someone and getting married are completely different. I mean, I'm not Mum. Oh, gods – I can't tell him, can I? We've only been dating seven months – I dated Michael longer than that and he turned out to be such a tosspot – what if Dean doesn't actually like me that much?"

"Would you please shut up?" Mattie grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.

The brunette smirked in agreement, but turned to whisper, "Well, you should at least tell him you're not in love with Harry anymore. Even if he isn't sure of what he feels for you, think of how Dean must feel if he thinks that you may never care for him the way you did Harry."

"You're right," Ginny sighed. "That would be awful, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it – I imagine it would be," Hermione muttered, staring at the underside of her canopy.

Her friend gave a small giggle as she rolled over. "Though, I did rather enjoy the angry snogging so maybe –"

"WEASLEY!"

"Sorry, Mattie," she whispered, pulling her blankets up to her chin. "I'm done talking. Good night."

"Good night," Hermione murmured, relieved to finally be able to sleep. After her day, which had both started and ended with an unbelievable amount of paperwork, she was exhausted. As there was another long day ahead of her – with an early morning Potions practical and an evening in the Hospital Wing. She was starting to understand why Madam Pomfrey always seemed to worry about everything and never wasted any energy trying to get to the truth of some of the ridiculous stories the students told her.

As the sounds of slowed breathing filled the room, the witch narrowed her eyes. She was the one who was tired, and yet both of her roommates were already asleep before her.

_What happened to 'I can't sleep because I'm too busy thinking about snogging my boyfriend?' Angrily snogging, I guess. What the hell constitutes angry snogging anyway?_ She frowned as she considered the question. _Whatever it is, I bet Severus would be wicked brilliant at it._

A sly grin crossed her face and she felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered how she had spent New Year's Day. She was rather willing to bet that her time on Snape's lap had been much more enjoyable than Ginny's on Dean's. Closing her eyes, she wondered briefly how the Potions Master would have responded were she to have slipped into his quarters that night.

_Oh, gods – what am I doing?_ Hermione whimpered quietly as she pulled her pillow over her head. She needed to sleep, not to fantasize.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As Snape slowly made his way about the classroom, monitoring the progress of his students' brewing, he periodically found his attention drawn toward the Gryffindor witch. As opposed to normal, she had spent the entire hour thus far perching on the edge of her stool as she worked and whenever there was a moment of down time in her preparations, she spent it resting her chin on one hand.

When he noticed her eyelids beginning to droop, he cast a quick look into her cauldron and realized that she was in danger of missing a critical color change. Rolling his shoulders, he sneered disdainfully at Potter's work, noting that the boy was about ready to add in the rhubarb seeds too early.

"Potter, are you under the impression that any shade of yellow will do? By all means, I invite you to experiment. I look forward to documenting the inefficacy of your variation."

As the boy scowled and dropped his hand back to the table, Hermione peeked out of one eye and quickly compared their brews. Realizing hers was nearly ready, she gasped quietly and snatched at her jar of seeds.

"How am I to know what the difference is between gold and saffron? They're both _gold_!"

Severus rolled his eyes at the boy's whisper and non-verbally flipped the pages of his book until it opened to one of the appendices.

Harry stared in shock at the color wheel in his textbook. "This has been here the entire year?"

"There's been something similar in every Potions text we've had," Hermione whispered.

As the Boy Wonder expressed his disbelief, the professor turned his attention to the next row of tables and smirked in amusement as he noted Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein, and Megan Jones frantically searching for that page. By the time he had completed another round of the classroom, he witnessed Hermione yawning widely and then closing her eyes again.

She had only had one day of mediwitch training, so for her to be so tired was worrisome. Perhaps he had overestimated the toll it would take on her after all. Frowning, he crossed his arms, knowing full well he had to do something to pull her attention back to her work or she was going to miss the necessary stirring and wind up with slop. "Granger, did Madam Pomfrey keep you up too late scrubbing bedpans?"

The girl's eyes widened suddenly and she nearly startled off of her stool. "N-no, sir!"

Snickers erupted about the room, and Snape was somewhat surprised to see that the only other two students who did not seem to find the question amusing were Potter and Draco. As he continued his rounds for the remaining hour, he decided to keep an eye on the Malfoy heir. It did not take very long for him to witness the blonde casting several hesitant glances in the direction of the Gryffindor pair.

As they neared the end of the session, he felt his curiosity beginning to get the better of him. Exhaling deeply, he sat at his desk and glanced back at Hermione, who now appeared to be staring blankly at her cauldron. As a few of the students approached with their completed potions, Severus mentally un-silenced the connection with her. Though he intended to question her about the Slytherin boy, his interrogation was immediately squandered by the sudden onslaught of explicit thoughts within his head.

The images his mind produced in response to her mental monologue were enough to make a grown man blush. He could see himself hungrily attacking the witch's mouth as he backed her onto his bed and climbed atop her. Without pausing in his oral assault, he ripped apart the sides of her blouse to expose her heated chest, and then quickly began nipping down the length of her throat. As he reached her collarbone, she arched against him with an audible whimper. Growling, he moved his hand to yank down the cup of her bra –

The clattering of a glass vial as it slipped through his fingers immediately pulled him back to the present, and Severus glanced up to see Terry Boot's nervous expression.

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy stammered, grabbing up the flask and recapping it before all of its contents could escape. "I th-thought you had hold of it, sir. It's my fault – I'll clean it up."

The professor cleared his throat and scowled in frustration as he looked past the panicked Ravenclaw to where Hermione was biting down on her bottom lip as she picked up her own flask in preparation for decanting her brew. In her head, though, she was picturing his teeth scraping over her rosy-hued areola as his tongue lashed against her nipple –

"Is that enough, sir –"

Snape's gaze slowly shifted from the fantasizing Gryffindor to the student directly in front of his desk.

"—for evaluation?" Boot asked, holding up his half-empty vial. "Or should I try to refill it with…what I have left… in… my… I'll just go refill it, sir. I'm sorry. That was an unintelligent question."

It was only after the tall boy scampered back to his work desk to scrape the dredges of his cauldron that the Potions Master realized that his look of confusion had been taken as one of condemnation. Before he could risk embarrassing himself further in front of the class, he immediately silenced the stream of thoughts coming from the girl and pinched the bridge of his nose. As his trousers suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, he cast an angry glare in Hermione's direction just in time to witness her about to transfer her potion without paying nearly enough attention to it.

"Granger!" he snapped while accepting Malfoy's and Greengrass's flasks. "Do you think that wise?"

Hermione jumped visibly, squawking as she realized how close she had been to spilling the contents of her cauldron across the workbench. "No, sir!"

"Perhaps you should stop daydreaming about your _significant other_ and focus on what it is you're actually supposed to be doing!"

Her face flushed a vibrant red as a number of her classmates tittered softly, and her widened gaze immediately locked onto his. In response to her silent question, he raised his eyebrows in affirmation and then sneered as he leaned forward. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Potter glared at him when she dropped her head in shame and then leaned toward her. "It's alright, Hermione – it's only five points. You'll make it up by the end of the day. You always do."

"I know," she mumbled beneath her breath as she began bottling her potion. When she had finished, she slowly made her way toward his desk, staring at the floor in shame. Without meeting his eyes, she set her potion on the desk in front of him and immediately made to turn away.

"One moment, Miss Granger," Snape intoned, picking up her flask and then rolling it in his fingers. While she waited nervously, he held it up to the light to examine it. The viscosity was spot on, but the hue was half a shade too dark and the clarity was not what it should have been. "An average attempt at best. I have come to expect excellence from you, and given the nature of our present agreement, one would assume you would not behave in a manner that will affect it negatively. Whatever it is you were doing just now cannot happen again. Is that understood?"

Hermione closed her eyes and ducked her head. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry."

"I think you will find, Miss Granger," he replied casually, stowing her potion in the basket along with Potter's and Macmillan's, "that if this occurs again, you will indeed be the sorry party. Are we clear?"

The witch flicked her eyes briefly to his and gave an understanding nod. She then took in a deep breath and walked as quickly as she could back to her station.

Severus surreptitiously watched as she quickly cleaned out her cauldron and shoved all of her things into her book bag. He could tell by the way she was holding herself that she was fighting off tears, and when she quickly fled the room, leaving Potter to re-shelve their ingredients, he felt an incredible sense of guilt. At the same time, however, he wanted it to sink in that they were not in a position in which they could test the limits of the bond. He was doing everything he could to keep things on an even keel, and it was in her best interest not to rock the boat.

Rolling his eyes at the glare sent his way by the exiting Boy-Who-Lived, he accepted the last of the student potions and then rubbed his temples. He knew that he should apologize to the girl, but at the moment, he had a much more pressing matter to deal with before the fourth years arrived. In order to prevent any further blood escaping to a particular part of his anatomy, he first had to bury the images she had elicited.

For the moment, Draco Malfoy was forgotten.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

After slamming the stall door shut, Hermione sank onto the edge of the toilet and set her bag on her lap. Wrapping her arms around it, she sucked in a large gulp of air and closed her eyes.

_Gods, how did that happen?_ With all of the inappropriate images that had plagued her thoughts the night before, she had not managed much sleep at all, and when Snape called attention to her fatigue, they all came rushing back. She tried not to think about it and tried to focus on her brewing like she was supposed to, but the next thing she knew, he was simultaneously pressing her into the mattress in her head and shouting at her to pay attention in class.

It was one level of embarrassment to know that she had been caught about to pour a hot potion all over her hand, but it was yet another to know that he had seen exactly why she was so distracted.

_Oh gods, how much did he see?_ The witch whimpered and buried her face against her book bag. _Why was he looking?_

Groaning softly, Hermione realized he must have been concerned about her inattention in class and then stumbled onto something he was unprepared to find. A few hot tears trickled down her cheeks as she remembered the angered expression on his face as he yelled at her and the clipped tone of voice he had used during his coded message to her. She knew exactly why he was upset – she remembered his explanation that their sexual desires could affect the strength of the bond. It had been ten days since she had last talked him into having sex, and he clearly did not want to risk having to repeat the occurrence any sooner than normal.

After her discussion with Professor McGonagall, the last thing the girl wanted to do was force him into sex. It seemed, however, that her subconscious had other plans. Leaning back into an upright position, she covered her face with both hands and whispered, "What is _wrong_ with me?"

As she ran her hands through her hair, she heard the bathroom door creak open. "Hermione, are you in here?"

A sigh escaped her lips at the sound of Harry's voice. She then cleared her throat and called out to him. "Yes. I'll be out in just a moment."

"Okay," he replied. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and glared at the hinge of the stall door. "Harry."

"Yes?" he asked.

"This is the girl's bathroom," she responded. "Might I have some privacy?"

"Oh, erm, yeah," the boy stammered. "Sorry. I'll just wait for you in the hall."

The witch snorted softly under her breath as the door closed. Rubbing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and then forced herself to her feet. In case the wizard was close enough to the door to hear, she flushed the unused toilet bowl and stumbled out of the cubicle toward the row of sinks. After splashing her face with a handful of cold water, she toweled it dry and then stared at herself in the mirror.

"Behave yourself, Granger," she instructed sternly, before shouldering her bag and joining Harry on a walk to the Charms classroom.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As she made her way up to Gryffindor Tower after her session in the infirmary, Hermione wrapped her arms about her waist and chewed on her bottom lip. She had made it most of the day without thinking anything inappropriate, but after Snape had broken through her thoughts during dinner to apologize for his short temper during class, her resolve seemed to slip. It had been alright when she was preoccupied with following Poppy's instructions, but whenever she had time to herself, her mind began to wander in unsuitable directions. Because of this, she realized she needed to find something on which to keep herself actively focused until she could collapse into a potion-induced slumber.

"Fuggity Fugwumps," she stated upon approaching the Fat Lady's Portrait, and as she stepped through the hole into the common room, she immediately glanced about the space for options. Ginny and Dean were cuddled up together on one of the sofas, which was something she really would not mind doing with Severus in his quarters…

_Damn it, Granger_! She shook her head and averted her eyes toward the tables where a number of students were working on their homework. Suddenly, she wished that she had a mind-numbingly difficult six-inch Potions essay to write. Though with her current predicament, it would probably end up being closer to ten or twelve inches, which would likely serve only to aggravate Snape further. She could see him hauling her up to the front of the room for another stern lecture, or perhaps into his office for some…

"Fuck!" she groaned, wiping her hand over her face. _Stop thinking like this!_

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, glancing over her boyfriend's arm. "Are you alright?"

The brunette dropped her hand and looked to her friend, clearing her throat. "Erm, yes. I was just… I just need to blow off some steam, so I was wondering if Harry wanted to get in some Defense practice."

"Oh," the redhead murmured, looking around the room. "I'm not sure where he is. Dean, have you seen him?"

The dark-haired boy shook his head as he turned the page of his Transfiguration textbook. "I haven't seen him since supper. He could be up in the room, though."

"I'll go check, then," Hermione sighed, walking toward the boys' staircase. "Thanks."

A mumbled acknowledgement drifted toward her as she climbed the stairs towards the sixth years' room. Rubbing her forehead, she mentally ran through all of the spells Madam Pomfrey had made her practice repeatedly. By the time she finished reciting the necessary wand motions for the _Anapneo_ spell, she had reached the correct room.

"Harry?" she asked, knocking softly. A muffled grunt sounded in response, and the witch pushed open the door. "Harry, I was wondering if you – oh my god!"

Before the occupants of the room could scramble to their feet in panic, a wide-eyed Hermione slammed the door shut behind her and fled down the staircase. By the time she reached the common room again, her cheeks were flaming and the same phrase kept repeating itself in her head. _Oh my gods! Oh my GODS! OH MY GODS! _

"Ya alright there, Granger?" Seamus asked, noticing the expression on her face as he looked up from his work.

When the girl whimpered and shook her head, Ginny pushed up from Dean's shoulder and looked at her with concern. "What's wrong? Harry didn't want to practice?"

The Irish boy eyed her curiously as she sank into a chair and then set down his quill. "Jeezus, Granger, you didn't walk in on Harry fingerin' his flute, did ya?"

"What?" she gasped, looking over at him in surprise as all of the boys within earshot blushed.

"Ya know," Seamus smirked unashamedly, "Beatin' the bishop, visitin' the five-fingered widow, bangin' one out, havin' a –"

He paused in his list to duck out of the way of the throw pillow that had been launched in his direction by one of the seventh-years sitting in front of the fireplace.

"There are firsties listening, you idiot!" Dean snapped, tossing a second pillow.

"Well, then they shouldn't be listening!"

Ignoring the current exchange between the two friends, Hermione wrinkled her nose at the mental picture accompanying the line of questioning and pushed the heels of her hands against her forehead. It was bad enough that she now had the image of Ronald Weasley with his pants around his ankles and Lavender's mouth around a different extremity burned onto her retina; she did not need one of her other male best friend in a compromising activity.

At that moment, the portrait swung open to reveal Neville excitedly discussing something with Harry.

"Oi!" Finnigan called. "Where ya been, Potter?"

Feeling a number of eyes upon him, the newcomer raised his eyebrows in confusion. "Neville and I were working on our Herbology project in the library."

"Yeah," the slightly taller boy nodded. "Professor Sprout made us partners now that Hermione's project is in the Hospital Wing."

"So if you weren't the one havin' a wank in our room –"

"What?" Harry hissed while Longbottom flushed scarlet.

"—then who was, eh?" Seamus raised his eyebrows suggestively as his eyes roved about the room. "You and I and Neville are accounted for, and Dean's hands are currently occupied elsewhere –"

"Hey!" Ginny snapped, shifting away from her boyfriend and folding her arms to her chest.

" – which can only mean – Weasley, you dog!"

Everyone except Hermione followed the wizard's gaze toward the boys' dormitory staircase in time see a nervous grin appear on Ron's face. The curly-haired witch that had stepped into the room just ahead of him glared back at him and slapped his forearm.

"You were supposed to lock the door!" she spit under her breath.

"I told you I did!" Ron protested. "I don't know why it didn't hold, but I did lock it!"

"You can't lock a dormitory door if there's a member of the opposite sex in the room," Hermione stated softly, in spite of the fact she wanted to curl up and die. "It's a Hogwarts policy."

"Is that so?" Seamus asked, visibly enjoying the ensuing chaos.

"Yes," Ginny agreed, glaring in her brother's direction. "As a former prefect, he should have known that."

A frustrated cry drew attention back to the bickering couple at the base of the stairs. After smacking the redhead once more, Lavender took note of all of the looks pointed in her direction and then glared bitterly at the back of head of the only one not staring at her. Folding her arms to her chest, the blonde huffed loudly and leaned forward. "You're a total bitch, Hermione."

"Lavender!" her boyfriend shouted as she sprinted up the girls' staircase and disappeared. He then sighed and ran his hands through his hair before turning to look at the audience of intrigued Gryffindors.

Hermione, having winced at the accusation, felt some of the attention shift back to her. A few of the seventh years, including Cormac McLaggen, bore haughty smirks of agreement, while the younger students looked to her in sympathy or outrage, as in the case of her roommate.

"That _cow_ is totally out of line!" Ginny spat bitterly. "You didn't do anything wrong, Hermione."

"Well, she could have knocked, couldn't she?" Ron mumbled.

The brunette let out an angry puff of air as she stood from her chair and turned to face him. "I did knock! I thought it was Harry grunting for me to open the door like he usually does because the two of you don't always bother to use words!"

His eyes widened slightly before narrowing into a cold glare. "Fine, but you didn't need to come down here and tell everyone that you walked in on her sucking me off!"

As a collective gasp sounded across the room, Hermione balled her hands into fists and returned his angry stare. "I didn't tell them anything."

"Then how did they know?" he pressed as she quickly moved toward her dormitory stairs.

"'Cause you just told us, mate," Seamus stated brightly.

Hermione vaguely heard the beginning of a shout from Ginny as she rounded the first turn of the staircase and then nearly collided with her other roommate.

"Sorry," Mattie muttered, stepping to one side. "One of the second years came to tell me what's going on, and I'm going to put it to rest before McGonagall gets summoned and we all never hear the end of it."

The younger witch nodded as the other prefect disappeared from view and hurriedly mounted the steps to their room. After slamming the door shut behind her, she flopped onto her bed and covered her eyes with her arms.

The day had just gone from bad to worse, and as it was only half past nine, there was the potential for it to become an absolute nightmare. With a shuddering sigh, Hermione propped herself up on one elbow and pulled open the drawer of her bedside table. Her hand paused over one of the vials of Dreamless Sleep that still remained – it was tempting, but she did not wish to risk oversleeping her scheduled time in the infirmary. Instead, she grabbed the flask of milder sleeping draught, noting with trepidation that it was her last dose.

_I'll just have to ask him for more during tomorrow's session, because if I do it tonight, I'm liable to jump him where he stands._ The girl gave a small whimper at the thought and tried to shake the accompanying images out of her head. After tossing back the potion, she dropped the empty vial in the drawer and slammed it shut. She kicked off her shoes and, without bothering to change into her pajamas, crawled under the blankets and closed her eyes.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Alright, everyone, make sure you've copied down the assignment for Tuesday's class and then off with you!"

Hermione's head snapped up at Professor Babbling's instruction and glanced around in surprise at all of the students vacating their seats. In a panic, she yanked her assignment book from her bag and attempted to write down the due date only to find the ink on her quill had gone dry. As she hurriedly dipped it into the inkwell, she looked up just in time to see the professor preparing to erase the board.

"Wait!" she cried, scribbling down the information as quickly as she could.

"Oh, of course, Miss Granger," the witch smiled. "I should have considered you were too busy taking notes to jot down the assignment before now."

"Erm, sorry."

"Oh, don't apologize!" she laughed. "That was not a complaint by any means."

The girl gave a hesitant smile as she shoved everything back into her book bag and then gave a mumbled word of gratitude. As she exited the otherwise empty classroom, she felt a twist of guilt in her gut as she realized there was not a single line of notes written for that day's lecture. She only hoped that everything she needed for the assignment was in the textbook, or else she was going to have to ask Dean for a copy of his notes. That would involve coming up with a suitable explanation that did not include thinking about having a naked Potions Master exploring every contour of her body.

_This is fucking ridiculous! _Hermione ran a hand through her hair as she arrived in front of the statue of Boris the Bewildered. The Prefects' Bathroom was empty as everyone else was in the Great Hall for lunch, but she was not hungry and had no intention of joining them. People would likely notice her absence, but as the fiasco of last night had begun to make the rounds of the school gossips, it would not be terribly hard to convince anyone that she had gone down to the kitchens for food instead. If only for that reason, she hoped the murmurs had reached the ears of the staff table so as to prevent Snape from mentally chastising her for not eating. She did not think she could stand it to hear his voice at the present moment, and he would likely be quite irate to discover the current content of her thoughts.

_And I thought yesterday was difficult_. The witch tossed her bag at the foot of one of the benches in the girl's shower room and sank onto the white cushion. She had managed a decent amount of sleep, at least until the potion wore off a few hours before she needed to be awake. The same images that had tortured her the night before had then returned, leaving her overly heated and desperate for some form of relief. An early morning session of destroying dueling dummies in the Room of Requirement had solved the problem for a while until she had slipped back upstairs for a shower before breakfast.

The sudden desire to be shoved up against the slippery tile by a wet Severus, however, had her quickly retreating to safer territory in the Great Hall. As it had been half an hour earlier than her usual breakfast, the room had been sparsely populated. With no one to bother her, she had again mentally recited the simple healing spells repeatedly until she was through with her breakfast. Her urges had calmed as a result – at least until she happened to pass the object of her fantasies in the Entrance Hall. The sound of his murmured greeting had sent a shiver through her body that ultimately settled into her core.

She had managed to make it through Madam Pomfrey's inventorying instructions, but her history class had gone much the same way as had Ancient Runes. Her ability to maintain focus had steadily decreased as the throbbing between her legs had intensified.

It was obvious that the binding curse was to blame. The magic had not yet weakened enough to cause pain, but was punishing her all the same for having discovered that she was attracted to the surly wizard. The girl knew she needed to confess everything to Severus soon, but she had Transfiguration after lunch and he was teaching classes up until supper. She would not pull him away from lunch. It was too soon after Lupin's accusations for both of them to be missing from a meal without irrefutable evidence of an alternative explanation. So she was just going to have to suffer until their scheduled session that evening.

_And then he can do whatever he wants with me._ A smirk settled onto her face as she closed her eyes, envisioning the wizard leading her by the hand up the stairs from his office to his bedroom, guiding her to her knees at the foot of his bed. She clenched her thighs together tightly as he slowly parted his robes and he then placed one of her hands on his belt buckle. She looked up to meet his dark eyes as she slid his trousers and pants from his hips and then ran her tongue over her lips as he gently maneuvered her head toward –

"No!" Hermione threw open her eyes and grabbed hold of her head with both hands. "Stop it!"

Launching to her feet, she began pacing the length of the room and tried again to run through the spells. When that no longer worked, she latched onto the first potion she could think of and began listing off the ingredients, and when that eventually failed, she kicked the end of a bench in frustration. She just wanted it to stop – the throbbing, the images, the urges just needed to go away.

Balling and unballing her hands, she blew out a long, slow breath and looked to the ceiling. It was not getting any better, and she needed to do something. Dueling crossed her mind, but she really did not have the energy for another round. Despite her recently overwhelming sex drive, she was physically exhausted.

_I suppose there is one thing I could try_. She wrinkled her nose at the thought and shook her head. _No, I can't do - well, other girls do it, don't they? It's a normal process, right? Documented health benefits and all that? But it's so wrong!_

_But what if it works?_ Hermione gave an audible groan as she glanced at the clock and assured that the bathroom was still vacant. Muttering under her breath, she slipped into one of the shower stalls and bolted it shut. After casting a quick _Muffliato_, she slipped off her school robes and hung them on one of the hooks.

"Okay," she whispered nervously, sliding onto the tiled shower bench. Rubbing her hands on the fabric of her skirt, she shook her head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

_Do I even know what I'm doing?_ The witch exhaled slowly and let her eyes flutter shut as she mentally revisited the night she had returned from the cottage. Deciding she could simply try copying his ministrations, she slipped one hand underneath the waistband of her skirt. She stroked her fingers over her knickers and immediately whimpered with the need for more contact. Biting her lower lip, she dipped her hand beneath the cotton fabric. She was surprised and somewhat disgusted by the feeling, but it was all but forgotten at the first sensation of pleasure spiked through her.

As had happened with Severus, involuntary sounds escaped her and she wantonly began pressing back against her own hand. But unlike that night, her continued stroking provided no relief. She was squeezing her eyelids shut so hard that white specks had appeared and her free hand was digging into the bench with such force that she would not be surprised to see divots in the grout, but nothing happened except for the ever-increasing burn in her center.

"Goddamn it!" she panted, withdrawing her hand and pressing the back of her head against the wall. Tears of frustration spilled down her cheeks at the realization that she had only made it worse. _Why did I think that would help? How am I going to make it through class like this? Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

A few minutes of self-loathing passed before Hermione managed to pull together enough courage to move from the bench. Grabbing her things with what she deemed her untainted hand, she quickly moved back to the main room toward the line of sinks. She purposely kept her head down, avoiding making any eye contact with the stained glass mermaid, and furiously scrubbed her hands under the water for longer than necessary.

After splashing her face with cold water, she hurriedly fastened her school robes and then stole from the bathroom as fast as she could. As she made for the nearest staircase, she grimaced at the sensations shooting through her with what seemed to be every step. By the time she reached the ground floor, she had to lean against the wall to catch her breath and will herself not to moan or make any other embarrassing noises.

Swallowing anxiously, the witch rushed down the corridor to the Transfiguration classroom. As she entered the room, she was suddenly immensely grateful to Neville and Harry for having selected the very back table, even if they had only done so to be as far away as possible from Won-Won and Lavvy-Poo—who appeared to have forgiven each other over the lunch hour. Holding her breath, she sank cautiously into her usual seat and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them and looked toward the front, she noticed Professor McGonagall eyeing her strangely.

Hermione immediately ducked her head, wincing when Harry accidently bumped her as he pulled out his supplies. She glanced quickly about the room, barely noticing Draco suddenly averting his gaze from her, and then again eyed the front of the room where the Gryffindor Head was jotting something down on a piece of parchment.

A moment later, the elder witch stood upright and cleared her throat. "If you would pair up, you will be practicing the _Mutatanares_ on your partners today."

Due to the odd number in the class, the two Gryffindors at her table began awkwardly glancing between each other and at her. Hermione sighed and rubbed her temple, knowing she really should not be performing simple magic on others at the present moment, let alone attempting to transfigure a nose. She was likely to permanently fix them with a beak or something worse. _Like a replica of a certain Slytherin's penis, perhaps._

As the thought produced a round of disturbing images, she shook her head. "You two can practice first. I can wait for now."

_And perhaps feign sickness to get out of it when they're done?_

"Uh-uh, Weasley, Miss Brown – I think not," Minerva tutted, dismissing their partnering with a wave of her hand. "Miss Patil, if you would be so kind as to sit over here and partner with Miss Brown, I would appreciate it. Weasley, over there with Mister Boot."

"You think she knows about last night?" Neville whispered.

Harry snorted under his breath, noticing the rebuking glare on the woman's face as she watched Ron begrudgingly shuffle past Padma and slump into the seat next to Terry. "Oh, she knows."

"Misters Potter and Longbottom, if you would, desist from gossiping and focus on the task at hand," McGonagall instructed. "Thank you."

While her friends began negotiating between them as to who would make the first attempt, Hermione's attention was drawn toward her rapidly-approaching Head of House.

"Miss Granger," she smiled, leaning down and handing her the folded sheet of parchment. "I was wondering if you might assist me with something this afternoon."

The girl forced a smile onto her face. "Erm, of course, Professor."

"I'm not certain as to how long you'll be needed, so I would suggest taking your things with you, but if you could deliver this, I would be much relieved."

With a nod, Hermione re-shouldered her bag and stiffly stepped out of her chair. After giving Harry and Neville a brief farewell, she exited the classroom and allowed the door to shut behind her before attempting to figure out what it was that McGonagall had given her and where it needed to be taken. Unfolding the paper, she gave a small gasp of surprise.

**_I do not know what it is, but I can see that something is wrong. He has a half-hour break before his next class and is likely in his office. Go. I will think of an excuse in the meantime._**

When the note disappeared into a puff of smoke, the girl all but sprinted toward the dungeon staircase.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Rubbing his temples, Severus snorted under his breath as the next essay in the stack was Potter's, and he penned a quick 'D' at the bottom. Upon glancing through it, however, he decided it really was not as dreadful as it could have been. He had attempted his own research into the subject – granted, he had used only one source and cited it incorrectly, at that. With a shrug, he moved his quill to lengthen the stem of the letter grade, making it a 'P' instead. He was just about to pull forth the next essay when a low breath escaped him.

_Given the circumstances, can it really be considered a poor attempt? With the Headmaster dragging him about the countryside on the Dark Lord Holiday Tour and nearly getting the both of them killed?_ Scowling, he penned another stem on the other side of the loop and smoothed the apex until it somewhat resembled an 'A'.

"Merry Christmas, Potter," he muttered under his breath before pulling forward Hermione's much neater and well-researched essay. Technically he had no need to grade it – even though she had completed it before the run-in with Lupin had necessitated her stint in mediwitch training, it would not count toward her grade. It was no skin off his back to do so, however, and as it would undoubtedly annoy her to some degree – which was only fair since she _was_ likely to blame for his sudden leniency on her friend's grade – he smirked at the prospect of giving her a giant 'O'.

At the sudden pounding on his door, the professor looked up in surprise. He was currently the only instructor not teaching, and students rarely sought an audience with him at this time as it was not an advertised office hour.

"Enter!"

His eyebrows rose suddenly as the bushy-haired witch pushed into his office. Her expression was one of distress as she quickly shut the door behind her, and he briefly flashed back to the nightmare he had had months before. As she rushed toward his desk, he cast a silencing spell on the room and prayed to whatever deity might exist that she was not skiving off class to inform him that he had sprogged her up.

"Severus, I'm sorry!" Hermione gasped, grabbing hold of the desk edge. "I didn't mean to! I tried not to think about it, I swear, but it just wouldn't stop! I tried to deal with it on my own, but it only made it worse, and I can't… I can't…"

The man shook his head in confusion. "Didn't mean to what?"

Without warning, she let out a deep moan that seemed to shoot straight to his groin. "Please!"

"Please what?" he cried, staring at her in shock when she whimpered and closed her eyes. "Hermione, what is wrong?"

"Oh god," she groaned huskily, rolling her hips against the corner of his desk.

The tears escaping her eyes worried him, but when her eyelids flashed open, the heated gaze she fixed him with made his cock twitch.

"Please, Severus," she panted desperately. "I need you… to make it stop. Please make it stop."

"Make it stop how?" he queried, feeling useless as he leaned forward.

The girl gritted her teeth and bent her knees as she clung to his desk. "I need you… in… inside of me… now!"

With wide eyes, he stammered, "N-now?"

"Yes!" she nodded emphatically. "I tried to wait, but I can't… I can't… just please!"

Feeling himself hardening at quite a rapid pace, he flicked his gaze to the clock and then moved to stand from his chair. "We can go upstairs –"

"No!" she shouted, rounding the end of his desk. "No more stairs. Please no more stairs. They make it so much worse. I need… now."

Tilting his head in surprise, Snape slowly sank back into his chair. Inhaling deeply, he cleared his throat and then began unfastening his teaching robes. Seeing that she had dropped her bag to the floor and was shrugging out of her bulky robes, he quickly undid his belt and shoved his pants down a few inches. When he gestured to her, she placed one knee onto the seat beside him and then moved to straddle him.

He swallowed at the tension radiating from her entire body and could feel her physically twitch as he placed his hands on her waist to steady her. Her nipples were practically poking through her shirt and when he pulled her knickers out of the way, they were positively drenched.

"Granger –"

"Stop talking and just do it already!" Hermione hissed in his ear.

Taking in an uncertain breath, the wizard positioned himself at her entrance and then startled when the briefest contact caused her to cry out loudly and bury her face into his neck. "Are you –"

His question of concern was cut off when she forcefully rubbed herself against his shaft and groaned loudly. "Please, Severus!"

Without another word he sheathed himself within her, and gave his own astonished cry when it seemed every muscle in her body spasmed wildly. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders as she threw her head back; her eyes nearly rolling all the way back into her head as her mouth fashioned into a silent scream of ecstasy. As he slowly moved, relishing in the sensations of her channel pulsating around him, her climax broke, leaving her to collapse bonelessly against his chest.

Her breath was hot and rapid against his neck, and he could feel her heart racing as she clung to him. Her violent release had not been quite enough to bring him to his own peak, but he knew he was close. Inhaling deeply, he whispered, "Hermione, I need to keep going."

When he felt her slowly nod against him, he gripped her waist gently and drove into her until he found his own blinding freedom. For several minutes afterwards, he clutched onto her – one arm wrapped around her waist; the other hand cradling the back of her head – until he had gained control of his breathing and felt the blood supply returning to his brain.

Severus raised her hips enough to remove himself, mentally cast a quick cleansing charm, and magically refastened his trousers. Recognizing that the witch needed rest, so he carefully stood from the chair and carried her toward the stairs as one would carry a sleeping child to her bed.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he paused near the top of the staircase. "What?"

"I'm so sorry."

When it was obvious that no further explanation was forthcoming, he continued on into his bedroom. Tossing aside the blankets, he carefully deposited her onto the mattress, removed her shoes, and then pulled the covers over her. He had just turned away when he froze in his tracks.

_You idiot!_ He mentally chided himself as he pulled open the drawer of his bedside table. _Concerned about her being pregnant and then you nearly forget to give her the contraceptive._

"Hermione," he stated softly, shaking her shoulder until she groaned and blinked open her eyes. "I need you to take this before you fall asleep."

The witch grimaced, but nodded and did as he requested. She then handed the empty flask to him and collapsed back against the pillow.

After Snape returned to his office, he sent her bag and robes up to his bedroom and then let out a slow breath. With a grimace toward his chair, he realized that a prominent line had just been crossed. It was one thing to sleep with her in his private rooms, but he thought it a different matter altogether to have sex at his desk in the middle of school day while he was in the midst of marking her classmates' essays.

He knew it was not really his fault – nor did he think it hers – but it still felt wrong. Everything the bond forced them to do was wrong, and it became increasingly more dangerous with every week that passed. How long could they possibly go on like this, when every encounter brought them that much closer to discovery? At this rate, Bellatrix would not have to do much more than sit back and cackle as the Dark Lord's plan crumbled around their feet. The Order would demand his head unless they were absolutely convinced of the truth, at which point the Death Eaters would take up the headhunting charge.

With that thought in mind, Severus groaned and glanced at the clock. He had no more than ten minutes before the start of the first years' practical session, and he needed to figure out some way to get rid of the evidence if Lupin were to come sniffing around before supper. Tapping his fingertips on his arms, he scanned his shelves for nearly a minute before an idea came to mind.

Poppy could always use more Murtlap Essence in her stores, and he had been putting off replenishing the supply since the pickling process was accompanied by one of the foulest odors imaginable.


	54. Some Measure of Compromise

**A/N: That took way too long to write. Uff da. But I actually got to spend ten days with the family, so that was nice - even if it meant you had to look elsewhere for something to read. (Sorry.)**

**Thank you all for your continued reviews and for the PMs of encouragement! You are all phenomenal! **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 54**

As the dinner hour arrived, Snape sat at his desk; his head safely ensconced in a Bubblehead charm as he finished marking the last of the sixth years' holiday essays. He had just penned the 'E' on Tracey Davis's parchment when the fireplace flashed green. Before his unsuspecting caller could see the bubble, he cancelled the charm and artfully leaned into his hand so as to cover his nose.

"There you are, Severus," Minerva sighed. "Might I come through?"

"You may." Though he was disappointed it was not Lupin who had come knocking, he still smirked in anticipation beneath his hand.

"I tried your quarters, but received no – Oh, what the _hell_ is that stench!" The Deputy Headmistress pinched her nose a few seconds after having stepped out of the fireplace.

"That would be the murtlap pickling, madam," he replied calmly. "I thought Poppy might need a bit more than she has currently."

"And you had to do that _now_?" she scoffed, blinking as her eyes began to water.

He shrugged casually. "I thought it might keep the wolf at bay. Either that, or he would be too distracted by the urge to roll in it that he would not pick up on her scent."

McGonagall snorted softly. "And where is Hermione?"

"Sleeping upstairs."

She gave a short nod and then gestured to the Floo. "Is it possible to converse elsewhere, preferably before we both end up pickling our brains?"

"As you wish," the wizard murmured, standing from his chair and following her through the Floo into his sitting room. As his colleague made a show of inhaling fresh air, he crossed quickly to his bedroom doorway. When he ascertained that the witch was still lost in slumber, he closed the door and returned to his armchair.

"Yes, stay over there," the woman warned, choosing a seat on the furthest end of the sofa. "Now, is she alright?"

He let out a tired sigh and nodded.

"May I ask what was wrong?"

Severus winced and glared at the fireplace. A long moment later, he rubbed his forehead. "Are you familiar with the effects of the _Voluptatum Eternis_?"

The Gryffindor raised her eyebrow. "I assume that by 'familiar' you are not asking if I have ever partaken in the manufacture or consumption of an illegal substance."

"That, madam, is something I do not wish to know," he sneered.

Minerva smirked and nodded. "I should think not, but yes, I am aware of it. During my brief time in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, there was a rash of 'The-Everlasting-Orgasm' druggings. I actually received a demerit for hexing one of my superiors when he made an off-handed remark about whether it should even have been considered a crime. I made sure to always check my tea whenever he was nearby after that."

"Probably wise."

She crossed her arms. "Why do you ask? Albus hasn't suggested adding that to the curriculum, has he?"

The man shook his head and kept his eyes fixed on the hearth. "It appears that the magic of the bond can produce similar symptoms."

"What?" Her eyes widened in shock, and she leaned forward in her chair. "_That's_ what was wrong? My gods, how long?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "She wasn't exactly fully coherent when she stumbled into my office, though I would imagine it's been at least a day."

"An entire _day_?" The witch covered her face and then glanced at him. "Did you know this could happen?"

"Of course I didn't _know_!" he shouted, launching out of his chair. "Of the handful of written accounts I've managed to find, only one of them even remotely hinted at something like this, and I thought it was absolute horse-shite! The author went on and on, repeatedly describing how his wife would be consumed by thoughts of him and writhe with passion before him, begging for his seed, whenever he would withhold intimacy from her for a certain period of time, and how she would scream in pleasure when he finally granted her it. I just assumed he was some narcissistic sadist who couldn't fucking tell the difference between pain and ecstasy!"

"Well, he certainly still sounds like a sadist to me," Minerva mumbled as she watched him pace.

Running his hands through his hair, he fixed her with pained look. "If I had thought there was any chance of it being true, I would have warned her about it. But I didn't."

"I believe you."

He grimaced and punched the edge of the mantel. "If I had thought that, I would have seen it yesterday and dealt with it then… before _this_ happened! "

"Severus, it wasn't your fault," she sighed.

He whirled around in response. "She was distracted to the point that she nearly poured her boiling hot potion on herself, Minerva! I saw what she was thinking about, and do you know what I did? I took points! I yelled at her! I told her that if it happened again, she would be sorry. Like it was her fault, like she was the one bringing it upon herself – and because of that she thought she had to apologize for it!"

McGonagall inhaled deeply and patted the seat beside her. "Sit. It does no good to stand and shout. You'll only wake her up, and you're not in any condition to handle her just now."

With a concerned glance to the bedroom door, he crossed over to the sofa and sank onto the cushion. Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, he stared at the floor and muttered, "It doesn't seem to matter what I do, because it all goes to shit anyway. And she's the one who bears the brunt of it."

The witch closed her eyes for a moment and rubbed a hand across his back. When he did not shy away from her touch, she leaned over and rested her chin on his left shoulder. "You also bear more than your share."

He pretended not to hear her, and then cleared his throat a minute later when her other hand rested on his arm. "Minerva."

"Hmmm?"

"What exactly are you doing?"

She quirked a small grin as she simultaneously squeezed his right shoulder and left arm. "I believe it's called mothering."

"Well, stop it."

The Gryffindor Head sighed as she sat upright, but left one hand on his spine.

"Shouldn't you be at supper?" he grumbled.

McGonagall gave a soft laugh and shook her head. "I am presently taking dinner in my office with Miss Granger after she assisted me with filing all of those pesky confiscation reports before tomorrow's deadline. You know how they've multiplied now that Weasley's Wizard Wheezes is a licensed venture."

"Those reports were due by the first," the wizard muttered, glancing back at her.

"Oh were they?"

"And I know you've already filed them because you were over here flaunting it in my face at having finished two days ahead of schedule."

The woman smirked and patted the back of her head. "Well, now that you mention it, I do recall something to that effect. Anyway, we'll get to chatting as witches tend to do and lose track of time as I regale her with stories of my youth."

Severus rolled his eyes as he sat back against the couch. "Now we'll just have to find a viable explanation for her not dying of sheer boredom."

"Hush it," she snapped. "We do, however, have to think of an alternative to this arrangement, because you cannot pickle murtlap every time the two of you have to –"

"I could also boil skunk cabbage in preparation for brewing a stock of the laxative potion."

Minerva stared at him in censure and folded her arms. "Severus Snape."

"Fine," he sighed. "I suppose we'll have to return to utilizing the Room of Requirement unless you can offer up a better alternative."

The witch shook her head. "That'll have to do for now. I've already given you my spare chambers to live in; I draw the line at lending my own bedroom for your _extra-curricular_ _activities_."

"Fucking hell," the man growled, pinching the bridge of his nose while she chuckled quietly.

The clock began to strike the hour, and after the sixth and final chime faded, she rubbed her cheek and leaned against the armrest. "Severus?"

"What?" he snapped, turning his head toward her.

"Have the two of you spoken since the incident with Remus?"

Snape took in a slow breath. "We've maintained conversation, but I assume you're asking if we've had some groundbreaking heart-to-heart."

"And I assume that's a negative," she snorted sadly. "I'm not going to be your go-between, Severus. I will hold your secrets and I will hold hers, but if either of you want to understand the other, that is on the both of you."

He frowned in response and folded his arms to his chest. "I've given her leave to ask questions if she wants."

"What makes you think she would be comfortable about prying into your private affairs?" she countered. "The fact that you've been an authority figure in her life for the past five years? One, whom I might add, had never given her the time of day before the summer. Or that you're secretive enough to lie directly to You-Know-Who's face and walk away? Or maybe because you respond to those who care about you with abrasive comments and outright insults? Or perhaps because when you do show concern for others you bury it in sarcasm and demands?"

The wizard blinked slowly and dropped his gaze to his lap.

Minerva took in a steadying breath and shifted in her seat so that she was facing him. Placing her hand on his knee, she spoke in a gentle tone. "You're an exceptionally private person, and I understand why. You've had to be in order to survive. You walk around with your chin held high, deflecting anything thrown at you and suffering in silence because you cannot allow anyone to perceive weakness in you. You lash out at others because it is demanded of you to be a hard man, but I know that isn't who you are.

"Look at me," she instructed when he glanced away. As his uncertain gaze eventually locked onto hers, she grabbed hold of one of his hands. "Your mask does not define you. Your father does not define you. Your past does not define you. I've figured that out, and I'm quite certain Hermione's figured that out. Right now, the only one else who matters and needs to figure it out is you."

Severus huffed quietly and shifted his eyes to the floor.

The witch pinched her lips into a thin line as she considered what else to say. "I hope you take this as observation, and not as criticism, because I don't mean it that way. You present an imposing fortress to most people – especially your students. Sometimes just leaving the door open isn't enough to let somebody in. You may have to step out to meet her first."

She gave his hand one final squeeze before releasing it. "I don't need to know anything more about you, Severus, but Hermione does. You've trained her to keep your secrets, so you might as well make use of that."

His eyes tracked her as she stood from the sofa and smoothed a wrinkle out of her robes, but returned to the floor when she turned toward him.

A smirk graced her face. "Before you do anything, though, I would suggest showering. She's had enough to deal with today and doesn't need to put up with that god-awful smell."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Freshly showered, Snape slouched in the armchair in his darkened bedroom, resting his chin in his hand as he gazed upon Granger's sleeping form. Ever since Minerva had flooed back to her office, he had been contemplating their earlier discussion. It had not really occurred to him before that Hermione could be afraid of asking him personal questions – she certainly had not been afraid to hug him without first asking permission.

She had questioned him on several occasions before, and so he had convinced himself that if there was something she wanted to know, she would vocalize it. As he sat here now, however, he was beginning to realize he was more than likely wrong. Aside from the conversation near the end of term in which he had discussed his childhood and friendship with Lily, she seemed to have steered clear of most personal things. Even when under Veritaserum, the majority of her questions had only been quasi-personal at best as they regarded mundane items like his teaching practice or OWL marks – which he realized he had never actually answered – or stemmed from her own experiences as with thestrals or Legilimency.

Furthermore, whenever she _had_ ventured into more private topics – like Lily or his heritage – she had always been profusely apologetic as if she were afraid he may react violently. And considering his knee-jerk reaction to her initial discovery of his affection toward Lily, she probably had every right to be frightened of him.

Sighing sadly, he was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of sheets rustling. As the witch stirred in the bed, Severus straightened in his chair and dropped his hand into his lap. He eyed her carefully as she rubbed her eyes and sleepily pushed herself out of the bed. She appeared to be moving rather stiffly as she stumbled through the dark room to the bathroom.

When she emerged a handful of minutes later, he cleared his throat. "Are you still experiencing symptoms?"

"Oh my gods," she hissed, jumping slightly in surprise and clutching her chest. "Why are you sitting in the dark?"

"My apologies," he murmured as he magically raised the lights.

Hermione ran a hand through her hair and sank onto the end of the bed. "How long have you been there?"

"Ten minutes, perhaps?" the wizard replied. "I was not certain how much longer I should let you sleep here, so I was debating whether or not to wake you."

"Oh."

Leaning forward, he repeated his first question, causing her to blush and avert her eyes to the floor.

"No," she shook her head. "I'm just… really sore… practically everywhere."

Snape tilted his head in comprehension and rubbed the side of his face. "I can fetch you a muscle ache reliever if you would like."

"Thank you," she whispered.

After he returned from the lavatory and delivered the proffered treatment, a long moment of silence stretched between them. Finally, he asked another question. "Hermione, why did you apologize to me earlier?"

The girl took in a number of short breaths as she continued to stare fixedly at the ground. After several seconds, she shrugged, "Because I didn't mean to do it."

"Well, I knew that," he responded, "but it did not require an apology."

As her lower lip began to tremble, she wrapped her arms about her waist. "You kept warning me against thinking about certain things, but I didn't stop. I should have because… because I did not want to force you into something."

"What?"

"I…" The witch trailed off and anxiously stood from the bed, grabbing her things from the floor. "I should go. I'm not supposed to be here anymore."

Severus stared at her in uncertainty, but panic suddenly kicked in when she reached for the door leading down to his office. "No."

She startled slightly at his tone and looked behind her.

"Not… that way," he answered; his voice softening. "I'm pickling murtlap. They'll know you've been in there."

Hermione frowned and automatically spun on her heel. As she strode quickly through the bedroom door, the Slytherin grimaced and shook his head. Lurching out of his chair, he followed her out into the sitting room. "Hermione."

When she still continued toward the portrait door, he sighed. "I received seven 'O's."

The girl paused with her hand on the door knob and then turned around in confusion. "What?"

"On my OWLs," he clarified. "I only received seven 'O's on them, but you had nine. You out-performed me."

"Seven?" she repeated, still appearing somewhat befuddled.

The wizard nodded. "Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense, Potions, Astronomy, and History of Magic. I only managed an 'E' on the other three."

"Why?"

"Why?" he murmured, raising one eyebrow. "Because I was distracted, I guess."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I meant why are you telling me this?"

He shrugged as he took a seat on the end of the sofa. "You wanted to know how I scored, and I should have told you when you asked me a month ago. I don't know why I didn't except perhaps because I did not wish to sound even more hypocritical than you had already pointed out. I have never exactly been proud of that performance."

"But those are still really good scores," she murmured, setting her bag down in the armchair before perching near him. "Why would you have been ashamed of that?"

He relaxed somewhat when it became apparent that she was not about to leave. "I made stupid mistakes that I never had when practicing for them. The first four exams went smoothly, but after the Defense exam it all went to sludge in a cauldron."

The witch pulled her feet up onto the couch and leaned against the backrest. "Why? What happened?"

"I assume that Potter told you what he witnessed in my Pensieve," he sighed, "despite my demands."

She nodded hesitantly. "Eventually. It really upset him, I know, and sometime after he broke into Umbridge's office to Floo Sirius and Remus, he told me about it."

"And I'm sure those two talked him down," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Passed it off as youthful exuberance, I'm certain."

"A bit, yeah," she exhaled. "But he didn't really buy it. He was really angry with his dad and with Sirius, and I think that's part of the reason he's hurting so much over Sirius's death. As his godfather, he was the closest thing he had to family, and Harry spent the last few months of his life basically condemning him."

"Forgive me if I don't quite believe he was that torn up over it."

Hermione shook her head and straightened in her seat. "No, he was. I mean, don't get me wrong – he still hates your guts – but it definitely shook him up a bit. He even confided in me that he couldn't understand how his mother could have ever married his father, and he actually wondered whether she had been forced into it."

"No," the man stated confidently. "Lily was _never_ forced into anything she didn't want. She disliked Potter for years, yes, but feelings change. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I think that she was happy with him."

She took in a slow breath and picked at her sleeve. "Do you think someday you might be able to tell Harry that? I don't think he quite believes Remus on that account."

Snape gave a long suffering sigh and stared at the fireplace. "Perhaps someday."

"What does this have to do with your OWLs?" she asked quietly.

"The event Potter saw took place then," he explained. "Lily tried to… come to my rescue, you could say, and I was embarrassed and angry about having been bested in front of my Housemates, and I said something I never meant to say."

The girl's eyes were wide as she noticed the pained expression on his face, and she bit her lip when he hesitantly flicked his gaze to her.

"I referred to her as a mudblood and insisted I didn't need her help." He took in a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "I tried to apologize so many times after that afternoon. I even threatened to sleep outside of Gryffindor Tower until she came out to talk to me. But it didn't matter. She was through with me."

"For _that_?" Hermione scoffed. "Do you _know_ how many horrible things Harry and Ron have said to me over the years? This past year and a half has been especially bad."

The wizard shook his head. "That was merely the last straw. She and I had been quarrelling for some time before that day. She never liked that I… associated with certain individuals in my House, but I was too naïve to realize that she was right. She also wanted me to stop antagonizing the four halfwits – to report the bullying to a professor instead of retaliating – but I thought I could prove myself… in both situations. So I continued to try her patience, and, after five years, it finally snapped.

"I was too stupid to see it coming, and when it did, I was… devastated. I felt physically ill, I couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to focus on anything but finding a way to fix it. My OWLs certainly suffered. I mixed up several of the runes, missed a significant factor in Arithmancy, which skewed my final prediction by an entire month, and the fire crab was a flaming disaster. Not only did I end up burning my hand while cleaning it out, it also took a small chunk out of my knuckle when I fed it. I'm actually confused as to why they still scored me so highly. I'm not willing to rule out the possibility that the examiners were under the Malfoy influence."

"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Severus snorted softly under his breath as he looked in her direction. "I do wish you would cease apologizing for things with which you have nothing to do."

"Sorry," she grimaced. A lengthy silence descended upon the room until she spoke again. "Is that why you've forbidden that word in your classroom? I've always wondered. More so when I thought you were a pureblood, of course. "

He nodded slowly in response.

Shivering slightly, she averted her gaze toward the fireplace. "Well, no matter what happened, I am sorry that she wasn't happy with you."

The spy glanced at her in curiosity and then frowned at noticing her expression. "Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied, blinking quickly in an attempt to dispel the urge to cry. "I just… today was… I just didn't know what to do, and I tried so hard… to make it stop, but I couldn't."

As a large teardrop rolled down her cheek, the man swallowed heavily before moving closer to her.

"I couldn't sleep or focus on anything I was supposed to," she continued. "I don't even know what was discussed in any of today's classes, because I kept seeing things in my head. Well, you know – you saw it in Potions yesterday – and it only got worse after that."

"Worse?"

Hermione nodded. "I kept seeing you… and sometimes you would make me… do things that I don't really want to do, but it made me feel like I wanted to do them. It was like I had no control over my own thoughts or my body. I just wanted it to end."

Snape dipped his head in understanding and hesitantly touched her hand. "I am sorry, Hermione. If I had known it could react in such a manner, I would have told you."

"I hate this," the girl whimpered. "It doesn't matter what I do – if I fight it or accept it, it's never satisfied."

"I know," he sighed sadly as he squeezed her fingers.

"Please tell me what I'm supposed to do," she whispered, raising her eyes to meet his.

The Slytherin took in a deep breath and shook his head. "It pains me to say this, but I am at as much of a loss as you are. I am loathe to suggest we renew the bond with greater frequency than is absolutely necessary as I do not know how the magic will respond. It is difficult enough to accomplish without drawing suspicion, and if it is going to continue placing excess demands on you, we are going to have to be excruciatingly careful in how we proceed henceforth."

Hermione inhaled quickly and drew away from him. "And what if this happens again?"

"Then we deal with it then," he shrugged. "You will need to tell me before it becomes unmanageable, however. And we may need to take measures to prevent it if we can."

"Prevent it?" she asked in concern. "You mean preventing me from… Are you going to make me take that potion again?"

Severus eyed her carefully and then shook his head. "No, but if you were to employ Occlumency to limit the influence that certain emotions have on your thoughts, it may help."

Casting her eyes to the wall, the witch squared her jaw and then pushed off of the couch. "I see."

"Hermione," he stated hesitantly as he watched her don her school robes. "I did not mean to imply that you had to leave."

She shrugged her shoulders, picking up her bag. "I have a Runes assignment that I have to figure out whether or not I can actually do on my own."

"If you need assistance –"

"I'll be fine," she interrupted. "I can ask to borrow Dean's notes if I need."

Confused by her sudden shift in demeanor, the Potions Master rose from the sofa and followed her to the door.

Without looking back at him, she cleared her throat. "Do I have an alibi for this afternoon, or shall I just have to improvise?"

When he explained what Minerva had devised, she gave one stiff nod of her head before exiting his room.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione let out a grunt when she felt somebody slam into the side of her arm.

"Watch where you're going, Mudblood."

Readjusting her bag, she glared at the back of Malfoy's head as he disappeared through the door of the Arithmancy classroom.

"You alright, Granger?" Terry Boot asked as they began moving toward the corridor.

She nodded slowly.

"You shouldn't let that twat get to you," he murmured, gesturing in the direction of the blonde Slytherin. "Just because he's _bred_, doesn't mean he has any sense of _breeding_."

The witch quirked a small smile. "I won't. Thank you."

"Yeah, no worries," he shrugged before setting off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower. "See you around."

Blowing out a slow breath, she began making her way to her own dormitory, determined to take a short nap before coming back down to supper. She had not managed much sleep the night before, since she had slept so many hours in Snape's quarters. Instead, she had spent nearly an hour in the shower until she had run out of tears, and then when her roommates had fallen asleep, she had given into temptation. With her bed curtains drawn tight enough to keep her wand-light from bothering the other girls, she had cracked open the diary Remus had given her for Christmas and scribbled out everything she was feeling. Then, after the ink had dried, she had torn out all of the used pages and had crept down to the empty common room in order to toss them into the fire.

It seemed stupid to waste so much time writing it down when she knew she would have to destroy it, but somehow it had managed to make her feel a bit better. There were things she could not tell either Severus or Professor McGonagall that just needed to be let out. She had promised never to speak of his love for Lily with anyone else, and she really was not comfortable discussing what she felt to be his blatant dismissal of her feelings of affection towards him.

_'Limit the influence of certain emotions.' _Hermione rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead._ Oh, but he's not suggesting I take the potion again, so I suppose I should be grateful. So I'm allowed to enjoy sex during it, but to never think about it afterwards. What a compromise, eh? Ridiculous._

Pausing in her thoughts just long enough to state the current password, Hermione stepped through into the common room. _'Limit the influence' like it's something gone wrong. Because it is, isn't it? He loves Lily, and he's tired of pretending with me. Fine. I can stop. I can go back to how it was. I can do awkward again. Why should he be the only one uncomfortable with the situation? That really isn't fair._

The witch plastered a fake smile on her face when Ginny waved to her from the sofa, and then quickly ducked upstairs. Dropping her bag beside her desk, she flopped face first onto her bed. _If it helps, huh? Well, fine. There's no illicit love affair and no significant others. It's probably better to face the truth: we're just two people stuck together for the rest of our lives. The sooner you realize it, Granger, the less it will hurt._

Closing her eyes, she rolled over onto her side and then winced when something poked her. Frowning, she slipped her hand into her pocket and then pulled out a folded piece of paper. It definitely had not been in there during Herbology, since she had kept her hands in her pockets when trudging through the snow out to the greenhouse and back. The only plausible explanation for its appearance had to be that Draco had dropped it in there when he bumped into her on the way out of class.

Unfolding it, she noticed immediately that it was a page torn out of their Ancient Runes textbook. Her eyes instinctually scanned over the familiar text as she smoothed some of the creases from the paper.

_"…The amethyst stone is exceptionally versatile in the art of rune-making, for it can be used as a stone of power, protection, wisdom, and healing. It can be used as a dream stone, as it is capable of bringing favorable dreams to the bearer of the rune. The protection bestowed upon the owner of the amethyst is not only directed against the witchcraft of an enemy, but also against the self-deception, guilt, and fear that may lurk within one's own being. Its healing strength allows one the power to focus energy, heal negativity, and overcome fears…"_

On top of the passage, scrawled in dark ink was a single word: **_WHY?_**

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus frowned upon noticing that Hermione was ignoring him entirely as she passed him in the corridor leading toward the library. Surreptitiously he glanced about the area, but saw no other individuals within eyesight. Even when she had simply been his student, she had generally acknowledged his presence – whether by giving him a polite smile or shirking in fear – but for the past few days, it had been exceptionally different.

Shifting the stack of books he held in his hands, he glanced over his shoulder and cleared his throat. "Miss Granger."

When she stiffly turned around, he could tell that her pleasant expression was contrived. "Yes, Professor? Is there something you need?"

"Not exactly," he murmured, again verifying that no one was within earshot. "I was merely curious as to whether or not you were able to complete that assignment you mentioned?"

Her eyes widened a fraction at the question, but her voice betrayed no measure of surprise. "Not quite yet, but I am certain I'll find the appropriate text to regurgitate before it's due. Good evening, Professor."

As she continued on her way and disappeared through the library door, the Slytherin stared after her in bewilderment. He was normally quite talented at discerning people's moods or emotions, but for the life of him he could not quite tell if she was simply teasing him or if she were legitimately angry with him. Though he was relatively certain it was the latter, he could not quite determine the reason why.

_Perhaps she's simply embarrassed about what she endured this week? Merlin only knows how many times you've reacted horribly out of sheer embarrassment._ Severus briefly contemplated mentally eavesdropping on her, but decided against it when his honorable side – which he had noticed was becoming more pronounced lately – pointed out that it was not fair that he could invade her privacy in such a manner while she so adamantly respected his.

Exhaling loudly, he glanced down at his books and remembered his present task. As he returned on his path to the first floor, his thoughts continued to center on the girl. He knew something had changed between them, and it had happened sometime after Lupin's confrontation the week before.

Snape bitterly cursed the werewolf under his breath as he reached his intended destination.

"Oh, good evening, Severus," Minerva smirked as he strode into her office. "Have you come to volunteer for next month's Hogsmeade visit even though I've excused you from it? How magnanimous of you."

Without bothering to respond to her teasing, he crossed the room at a determined pace and dropped the stack of books on the middle of her desk top.

The witch raised one eyebrow and pulled the top volume nearer her. "'_Disciplining the Mind'_? What is this?"

"Your reading assignment this term," he replied, folding his arms.

"_My_ reading assignment?" she queried, looking at him over the rim of her reading glasses. "With all of that spare time I have lying around, hmm?"

"I suggest you find the time, then."

The Gryffindor fixed him with a trying look as she grabbed the next two books. "_'The Art of Occlumency'_ and – oh, you have to be kidding me – '_The Last Stand: Defending the Forgotten Frontier'_?"

He gave a casual shrug as he descended into a chair. "The author's an American. The presentation is dreadful, obviously, but if you can make it past that, the information is exceptionally sound."

"Well at least it promises _some_ measure of entertainment," she snorted, dropping them both and eyeing the remaining books which bore the mark of the Hogwarts Library. "And just why is it you've decided to enroll me in your private book club?"

"You claim to be willing to hold my secrets," he explained, leaning back in his chair. "If I am to continue allowing you to do this, I need to know that you are capable of protecting them."

McGonagall gawked at him in disbelief. "You think you're going to train me to be an Occlumens? Severus, you don't have the time."

"If Albus hasn't seen the need to train his likely successor in mental defense, then someone else must," the wizard sighed. "And seeing as I am the only other capable Legilimens in the Order, the task falls to me."

When she continued staring at him in silence, he sighed and leaned forward in his chair. In a low voice, he murmured, "I cannot, in good conscience, risk _her_ safety on the notion that you will never face interrogation by a Legilimens."

Minerva let out a long sigh in response and rubbed her temples. "Alright, fine. What is it I am to do?"

"Read as much of it as you can," he answered, pushing out of the chair. "You'll have your first chance to practice after next week's staff meeting. And if you find none of these methods suitable, I will send Hermione to explain hers."

The woman nodded slowly as she watched him make his way toward the exit. "Just bear in mind, Severus, that if you act like a berk at any point in this venture, I will not hesitate to hex you."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Have you signed up yet?"

At the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione pulled her eyes away from Slytherin table and cleared her throat. "What?"

"I was asking if you've signed up yet," he repeated. When she stared at him quizzically, he raised one eyebrow. "For apparition lessons. You know, the thing we've all been talking about for the past ten minutes."

"Oh, erm, sorry," she blushed. "I guess I wasn't paying attention."

"Are you alright?"

The witch nodded, donning a smile. "Yes, I'm fine. I just feel like I forgot to do something for Arithmancy today, so I was trying to figure out if I actually have or not."

Harry frowned slightly. "I thought you didn't have to do homework anymore."

"Only for Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Charms since they're all necessary for Healer training," she shook her head as she picked up half of her sandwich, "but I still have to finish the coursework for my other classes."

"Oh," he murmured. "So have you?"

"Have I what?" Hermione asked. "Forgotten something?"

The boy narrowed his eyes as he shook his head. "No, have you signed up for lessons?"

"Oh, erm," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck. "No, I haven't. I'm not sure that I want to."

"What?" he gasped. "What do you mean, 'you're not sure'?"

The witch rolled her eyes slightly at his reaction. "Well, for one thing, it's a bit expensive."

"Twelve galleons isn't really _that_ expensive," he countered. "If you think about it, it's only a galleon a lesson."

"Yes, but that's twelve galleons I don't currently have," she argued quietly. "What little money I _did_ have, I spent at Christmas. I don't have a Gringotts' vault, and I can't exactly access my parents' Muggle accounts, seeing as we've all been declared dead, now can I?"

With a wince, Harry set down his glass. "I'm sorry – I didn't think about that. If it's just the money bothering you, I can pay for –"

"No," she interrupted. "I can't accept something like that from you."

"Just think of it as a loan," he shrugged. "I have no doubts that a future Healer will be able to pay me back the measly sum of twelve galleons."

"Harry, I don't –"

"At least think about it. The deadline isn't for another few days, and it would be useful."

Hermione blew out a deep breath before nodding. "Fine. I will consider it."

Seemingly satisfied, the wizard returned his attention to some of the other sixth years who were more excited by the prospect of learning how to apparate. With a glance in the direction of the Head Table, the girl sighed, knowing full well that Severus had instructed her months ago that she was to feign disinterest when the topic of Ministry-supervised lessons arose. That particular feat was easier said than done for she had an inkling that Harry was going to be rather persistent in the coming days.

After taking another bite of her lunch, she scowled at the prospect of again figuring out how much information to divulge in her explanation. For the time being, however, she pushed that topic to the back of her mind and resettled her attention on a more pressing issue.

There was a note all but burning a hole in her pocket. The longer it remained in her possession, the more anxious she felt about delivering it. It was not exactly top secret missive – even if it fell into the wrong hands, it would be impossible to understand without unwritten context – but seemed dangerous all the same.

**_Because you need it._**

Her reply to Draco's query was rather innocuous, but she could not risk being seen communicating with him. She had first considered getting it to him either before or after their morning Potions lecture, but he had nearly been late for class, and Harry had practically glued himself to her side afterwards.

She knew passing it to him during Herbology would be out of the question, since the blonde was unlikely to be separated from his Slytherin henchmen and hopeful girlfriend for more than a few seconds. Not to mention that Harry and Neville would undoubtedly expect her to participate in their conversation during their walk to class and back.

_Arithmancy, it is then_. Hermione suddenly understood why the Malfoy heir had chosen that particular course to deliver the initial message. There were relatively few members of either of their Houses present – none, in her case – and Fate had somehow managed to place their desks within striking distance of each other.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Fuck," Severus hissed under his breath, ducking at the last minute as a red bolt of light soared just above his head. His eyes were wide as he glanced over his shoulder to note where the strike absorbed into the wall of the disused Potions classroom. Straightening to his full height, the wizard cleared his throat and faced his current dueling partner. "Well done."

Hermione shook her head and shifted her stance. "I didn't hit you."

"Not quite," he acknowledged with a tilt of his head, "but it was the nearest miss you've ever had."

Snorting softly, the witch folded her arms to her chest and looked toward the wall.

Snape frowned slightly at her subdued reaction and then glanced at the clock. After wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow, he spoke. "Perhaps we could consider that enough dueling practice for this evening."

Without so much as a word, the girl nodded and stepped toward the table upon which she had cast her school robes. Shrugging them on quickly, she stowed her wand and then turned toward the door.

"Hermione," he called, crossing his arms. "If you would wait a moment, I would like to speak with you."

Exhaling loudly, she slowly spun around to face him. "About what?"

"You," he replied simply.

"Me?"

The professor nodded and leaned back against the edge of a table. "About your… _behavior_ recently."

A nervous expression appeared on her face. "My behavior? Have I done something wrong?"

"No, not really," he mumbled uncomfortably. "I was just concerned as to whether or not you were feeling alright."

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "I haven't experienced any odd symptoms if that's what you mean."

Severus shook his head. "I don't mean about the binding magic. I meant with you. Is anything wrong?"

"Are you seriously asking me that question?" the girl scoffed. "When hasn't something been wrong lately? Practically everything that has happened to us in the past five months has been wrong."

Taking in a deep breath, the wizard scratched the side of his head. "Yes, I suppose that was a poorly considered question. Is there something in particular that is troubling you now more than before?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe."

"Are you angry with me?"

Her eyebrows narrowed at the question. "What reason would I have to be angry at you?"

"I'm certain there are plenty of possibilities," he smirked, resting his palms against the table. "You've seemed rather distant lately as though you're upset about something."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then cleared her throat. "Well, I thought was what I was supposed to do. I don't wish to encourage Remus to become suspicious of our _relationship_ – he already finds it odd that I could consider you a friend – and _you_ were the one who said I should be occluding _certain_ emotions."

"I did not mean to suggest that you had to occlude all of them," the man explained.

"Well, I'm sorry," she sighed, crossing her arms, "but I really don't understand what you want from me. Either you want me to be affectionate or you want me to keep my distance. I can't do both, so please tell me which it is I'm supposed to be doing."

Frowning, Severus shook his head. "I only wanted you to be cautious because I don't know how to proceed. I did not intend to upset you."

When her only response was to look away, he stepped away from the table. "If there is something you would like to discuss, I am more than willing –"

"No," she snapped, shaking her head emphatically. "I will be fine."

"Will be fine?" he repeated, cocking one eyebrow. "So there is something still bothering you."

"I can handle it on my own," the witch argued. "I don't need you to help me with everything."

His eyes widened slightly. "I know that you don't, but I have told you before that I will do whatever I can to make your life less difficult –"

"Stop saying that!" she cried, gesturing with her hands. "Stop treating me like I'm just some helpless victim! I get enough pitying from Remus; I don't need it from you!"

"I'm…" he trailed off, staring at her in surprise as he considered the allegation. "Hermione, I never meant to imply that you –"

"I know," Hermione interrupted, running her hands through her hair as she began to pace. "I know, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that because Professor McGonagall said you wouldn't, but everything's just so jumbled in my head right now. It seems like everyone's either walking on eggshells around me or bending over backwards to do things for me, but I would like to be able to sort out some of my own problems for a change. I _can_ do things on my own."

"I know that you are more than capable –"

"I mean, between you, and Remus, and… and Harry," she continued, ignoring him, "I'm tired. And then there's Ginny wanting counseling on things that I really don't understand myself and shouldn't be giving advice on, and Ron's not speaking to me at the moment, which really I don't even care about right now because I can't even look him in the eye anyway. Frankly, I don't know if I'll ever be able to without obliviating myself first. And now there's Draco to deal with on top of everyone else!"

While he had been following her with his uncertain gaze throughout the entirety of her monologue, Snape froze suddenly at the mention of the young Slytherin. "Hermione, what _about_ Draco? What does he want with you?"

"An explanation apparently," she sighed.

"Regarding?"

The girl came to a stop in the middle of the room. "Why I bought him a Christmas gift."

"You gave him a gift?"

She nodded. "To be painfully honest, I don't even remember thinking about whether or not I should have. I just decided to do it because… well, I thought he could use any help he could get, and it was Christmas. We've never been friends, of course, but I've never wanted to see him suffering like he is."

His shocked expression gradually melted into one of curiosity. "What did you give him?"

"An amethyst," Hermione murmured, sinking onto a chair. "It's nowhere near as nice as the one you gave me, but I thought maybe it would still help. The properties of the stone might really be a load of codswallop, but wearing mine certainly makes me feel better."

Pulling a second chair out in front of her, the spy paused as he remembered the conversation he had held with the Headmaster on Christmas Eve. Perhaps Hermione was one of the significant factors that Dumbledore believed he was overlooking. Blowing out a quick breath, he perched on the seat and leaned forward. "How did he react?"

She laughed morosely as she picked at her robes. "About as well as he did when he thought I was spying on him. Though, he probably still thinks that's true. He clearly doesn't trust me, but he did listen to something of what I said."

"How do you know that?"

The witch took in a loud breath. "Because after he tried to interrogate me at the start of term I told him to consult his Ancient Runes text if he wanted to know what it meant. And well, on Friday, he pushed into me in class like he's always done, only this time he dropped a note in my pocket. He had torn out the corresponding page from his book to again ask me why I had given it to him."

"And have you done anything else?"

"I slipped a reply into his bag during today's Arithmancy lecture," she responded quietly. "Saying the exact same thing that I did then."

"You are certain he will find it?"

Hermione nodded. "I assume as much considering he snapped at me for touching him with my polluted hands. I said that I didn't mean to accidently brush into his bag, then Terry and Michael told him off, and he spent the majority of class glaring at me."

Snape exhaled slowly and rubbed his face with both hands. A moment later, he pushed out of the chair and paced a few steps. "Why haven't you told me any of this before now?"

Guiltily, she looked toward the floor. "I don't know."

"Is _this_ one of those things you wanted to figure out on your own?" he pressed.

"No!" Hermione closed her eyes and grabbed her head. "I don't know why I didn't tell you! I'm sorry! It just didn't seem that important at the time."

"It's alright," the man sighed, coming to a standstill a long moment later. "But from here on out, I wish to remain apprised of any of your dealings with him. Malfoy is an issue we must face together, is that understood?"

She nodded once and cleared her throat. "Yes. If he responds, I will inform you."

"Immediately," he clarified. "It is of vital importance that we discern the nature of his mission."

"I know," she whispered softly before standing from her chair. "Am I allowed to leave now, or is there something else we have to talk about?"

Severus crossed his arms and cleared his throat. "We don't _have_ to talk about anything else at the moment –"

The witch immediately turned to leave.

"—but regarding your earlier concerns," he finished, causing her to pause mid-step, "I do not _pity_ you. You have… been facing exceptionally trying situations this year – and your entire tenure as a student, to be honest – and you are faring far better than I could have expected. I know I have attempted to tell you this in the past, but… it has been brought to my attention that I do not often communicate my impressions well. So if you have not been… fully aware of the sheer remarkability of your progress in and handling of everything that has occurred, I hope you realize it now."

As Hermione slowly turned around, she wrapped her arms about her waist and began blinking very rapidly.

"I _know_ that you are tired," the wizard continued, meeting her eyes with his, "and I _know_ that you are confused. I am, as well. Quite frankly, I would love to be able to tell both Dumbledore and the Dark Lord to fuck the hell off, but I cannot. The Order would fail miserably without intelligence, and Potter would have no chance of success. I am sorry that you have been forced into this role along with me – you did not choose it, and I would never wish it on anyone. I, at least, had some inkling of what would be demanded of me when I accepted the position, and unlike you, I had no promise of a better alternative in life.

"That is why I am willing to do everything I can to help you," he emphasized, "because I know, that for some things especially, I am the _only_ one who _can_. If there are… certain things you do not feel comfortable in sharing with me, I do not need to know them unless they directly pertain to matters of safety or importance. And anything else you see fit to tell me will never be shared with the Dark Lord, or Dumbledore, or even Minerva. And unless you divulge that you secretly wish to be mentored by Trelawney, I will not think any less of you for anything that may be said. Do you understand?"

A tear escaped her eye as the girl nodded. Sniffling, she took a slow step toward him and then stopped suddenly. When she pinched her eyelids shut and donned a pained expression, he moved to her in concern.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to… I just wanted to hug you, but if that's now against the rules…"

Severus snorted softly and drew her against his body. As she immediately wrapped her arms around his torso, he touched his lips to the top of her head. "It should not be a problem… in moderation. Late morning snogs, however, may prove too precarious while school is in session."

"Okay," the witch mumbled, burying her face into his chest. "I think I can settle for this."


	55. Pitfalls

**A/N: As always, thank you for your patience and continued reviews. **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 55**

As she stepped into the Gryffindor common room after her shift in the infirmary on Wednesday night, Hermione rubbed tension out of her neck.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry called out from his seat near the fire, "are you busy?"

Yawning slightly, she shook her head. "Not at the exact moment, no."

"Can I ask you a Potions question?"

The witch raised one eyebrow as she stepped toward his chair. "Really? I mean, your essay isn't even due for another fortnight."

Her friend shrugged. "I know, but I thought I might start it before the last minute."

Hermione glanced around at the rest of the room before focusing again on him. "Who are you, and what have you done with Harry Potter?"

With a small laugh, he leaned over and pulled a scroll out of his bag. "I think you could ask Snape the same question."

"_Professor_ Snape," she corrected automatically, taking the parchment when he offered it to her and studying it for a long moment. "What am I supposed to be seeing? That he gave you an 'A'? I would have given you the same – I mean, you _did_ only use one source and half of your citations are missing."

"Yeah, I know – he wrote that on there, but you're missing the point. Hermione, he _gave me an 'A'_," he emphasized, leaning forward. "He _passed_ me on an essay."

"Barely," she shrugged.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "You don't get it. _This_ doesn't happen very often. I don't think he's given me a passing grade on an essay since… I dunno, second year? Maybe once or twice in third year. But since then - not even when you helped me with them."

"You mean 'did them for you'. Perhaps he knew you finally did your own work this time," the girl suggested, handing it back to him.

"I've been doing my own essays the entire year, though," he pointed out. "This is the first 'A'. This is like a monumental occasion for me."

Hermione snorted softly and donned a small smirk as she watched him carefully stow the essay away. "Are you going to frame it?"

"Seriously considering it," the boy replied with a laugh. "Do you think he'd sign it? Just so I could prove it was him?"

"Well, you could always go and ask," she teased, crossing her arms.

Harry grimaced. "He might take it back. I better not risk it."

"Good idea," the witch nodded. Leaning against the wing of his armchair, she peered over his shoulder at the open book on his lap. "So what was your question?"

"Well, you saw the assignment, right?" he stated, pulling out his notepad. "To pick a desired outcome and…"

"Theorize a possible list of ingredients that could be used in a potion to accomplish that goal," Hermione nodded. "Yes. I'm actually a bit disappointed that I don't have time enough to work on that one."

"_You_ would be," the wizard sighed. "Anyway, I was thinking about something that would…erm… shield or protect someone from the effects of dark magic – like the _Cruciatus_, or something."

"Well, that's certainly… an impressive task," she finished weakly.

He gave a nod and shifted in his seat. "I remembered your essay from the beginning of the year – you know, the –"

"Yes, I remember."

"Anyway," said Harry, "You said that the intended potion was directed somehow to the nervous system, and I was curious how that worked – how you can direct effects to a particular part of the body."

"You know, this is a question that Professor Snape would be better able to answer," she murmured, scratching her head.

"Hermione," he stated pointedly. "I would like to get another passing grade. He won't do that if I ask him for help."

"You don't know that," the girl argued. "He might see that you're not as arrogant as he seems to think you are."

He shook his head. "I doubt it."

"Fine, I tried," she whispered, perching on the arm of the chair. Clearing her throat, she carefully explained what she had discovered from her previous readings over the years and then mentioned a number of references that might help him more than she could.

"Thanks," Harry smiled as he finished scribbling down his notes. "I don't suppose I should cite you as a source."

Hermione snickered as she stood. "No. Though, he'll probably assume it anyway, so you had better support all of that with actual work."

"Do you think you could, erm, show me how to correctly cite something?" he asked sheepishly.

She laughed slightly at his blush and then nodded. "When you get to that point – yes, I can help you with that. But for now, I'm going to bed."

"Mmmkay," he mumbled, looking back at his notes. "Hey, erm, Hermione –"

"Yes?" she replied, turning back to him.

"Did you think any more about lessons?" the boy asked, gesturing at the sign-up sheet behind him. "Tomorrow's the deadline since they start next Saturday."

Her shoulders drooped slightly and she ran her hands through her hair. "Harry, I just don't think I want to right now."

"What do you mean?" he exclaimed, pushing his Potions materials onto the floor. After glancing around at the other occupants of the room, he quickly pulled out his wand and cast a _Muffliato_. "Hermione, you know what we're going up against."

"I know."

"Being able to apparate would be really helpful, don't you think?" he pressed.

Hermione pinched her eyes shut for a moment and then stepped in front of him and sat down on the edge of the coffee table. "It would, yes, but –"

"So let me pay for –"

"Harry, listen to me," she snapped. "I'm trying to tell you something important. I've been studying up on Apparition because I know it's useful, but there are some things you should know about its regulation."

The wizard narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, underage magic isn't the only thing the Ministry keeps tabs on," she whispered quickly, though she knew no one would be able to hear her even if she had shouted it. "When you get your Apparition License, they can track you if they so choose."

"What?" he gasped.

Hermione nodded. "I found it in the _Magicks of the Ministry_, which explains a majority of what they do. I even asked Professor Snape about it, and he said it was true."

"But… why would they do that?"

"Why wouldn't they? You remember Umbridge," she countered. "Professor Snape said that was why the Order chose to move you on broom last summer because it would have been obvious that it was you if someone disapparated from your aunt's house and they then could have traced your destination. They wouldn't have been able to see the building, of course, since it's secret-kept, but they would know where it was."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, rubbing his neck. "So, that's why you're not doing lessons?"

"Right. Since I'm already of age, I'd have to take the test at the end of the lessons to get my license."

"Well, couldn't you just opt out of the test?"

Hermione fixed him with a trying look. "Because that wouldn't be suspicious."

Harry gave a grimace of agreement and ran both hands through his unruly hair. "So should I not do them as well?"

"No, _you_ should," she stated. "You'll still be underage until the end of July, so you can't take the test in May even if you wanted to. They're already tracing you because you haven't reached your majority, so they don't need to license you yet. You can learn how to do it now, but then when you turn seventeen – just don't let anyone take you to get tested."

"Well, what about you? How will you learn?"

The witch shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll work it out."

Her friend eyed her curiously and then shrugged. "Okay. Wait – what about Ron? I know the two of you aren't on good terms right now, but he's still our friend and he should know."

"You're right," she sighed. "He'll be seventeen in March, so he'll have to take the test at the end."

"You should tell hi –"

"No, _you_ should tell him," the girl argued. "He'll listen to you more than he would me."

"Hermione, you _need_ to talk to Ron."

Groaning loudly, she rose to her feet and scowled at him. "Fine, but if it goes poorly – it's on your head."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip as she followed Dean into the Great Hall. Tightening her grip on the strap of her bag, she took in a deep breath and glanced down the length of the Gryffindor table to where Harry was sitting across from Ron. Harry was still adamant that she needed to be the one to explain her concerns to Ron, which meant that it had to be done today. She meant to confront him at breakfast, but when she had seen the glare Lavender cast in her direction, she had retreated to safety beside Ginny.

At the moment, however, Lavender was nowhere to be seen. _Now or never, I guess_.

Walking up to the redhead, she squared her shoulders and then cleared her throat loudly. "Ron, can I talk to you for a moment?"

When the boy unabashedly ignored her, Harry gave her an apologetic look. Rolling her eyes, the witch sat in the open seat beside him. "Ron, I need to talk to you."

Harry sighed loudly and set down his fork. "_Ron_, come on."

"Fine," he snapped, turning to glare in her direction. "What do you _want_?"

Hermione flinched at the hostility in his tone and took in a calming breath. "Erm, well… Harry and I were talking last night about the apparition lessons and we wanted to include you in –"

"Oh, you _did_, did you?" he hissed.

"Yes –"

"Well, don't bother!" Throwing his fork against the plate with a loud clatter, he pushed out of his seat. "Thanks to you, McGonagall sent a letter to Mum and Dad about my behavior."

"I didn't do any –"

"Mum said they were so disappointed with me that they refused to send the money for lessons, and have forbidden me from taking them!" Ron shouted, ignoring her protest. "So thank you so bloody much, Hermione! I hope you're pleased with yourself!"

With that, he stormed away from the table and out of the Great Hall.

Hermione stared after him in shock for a minute before risking a glance in Harry's direction.

"You alright?" he asked.

Feeling a dozen sets of eyes on her, she nodded slowly.

The boy cleared his throat and offered her a small smile. "Well, I suppose there is a silver lining at – "

"Oh, shut up, Harry," she growled, standing up from the bench. She closed her eyes briefly when he apologized, and then mumbled, "I'll see you in Transfiguration."

Adjusting her bag, she pinched her lips tightly together as she rushed away from the Gryffindor table, narrowly avoiding a collision with Parvati and Lavender. When the latter mumbled an insult beneath her breath, the brunette simply pushed past her and exited the Great Hall. Determined to get as far as possible before breaking down in tears, she rushed up the nearest staircase and blindly hurried down the corridor. As she turned the corner, she collided with a solid mass.

"Miss Granger," Snape stated coldly before glancing about and ascertaining that there was no one else in the vicinity.

"Sorry," she mumbled, moving around him. Before she could leave, however, he grabbed hold of her arm.

"What is it?"

She shook her head quickly. "Nothing."

Not wishing to risk being come upon by another student or member of staff while speaking with her, he sighed and pulled her into the nearest empty classroom. After warding the door shut, he looked down at her rigid form. "It clearly isn't 'nothing', so what _is_ wrong?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

The wizard stared impatiently at the girl before touching her shoulder. When she immediately pulled away, he sighed quietly. "Hermione."

Unable to hold the tears back any longer, the witch dropped her book bag and covered her face with both of her hands. "He _hates_ me."

"What?" Severus asked, raising an eyebrow. "Who?"

"I didn't want him to hate me," she whimpered, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "I did everything I could not to hurt him, but it doesn't matter – he hates me all the same, and I didn't mean to do anything! I _didn't_ do anything! All I did was stupidly open a door because it never crossed my mind that he would be… doing that."

The man grimaced, realizing that the youngest Weasley boy was at fault. He remembered her confession about the ginger wizard that she had made months before, and he vividly recalled Minerva's angry mutterings the week before regarding the latest disturbance in Gryffindor Tower. He had not known, however, that Hermione had been the one to walk in on it.

He rubbed his temples briefly before dropping his hand and clearing his throat. "I highly doubt that he actually _hates_ you."

"How do you know that?" she moaned, looking up at him.

"Because he _is_ a Weasley," Snape stated. "They may be quick to temper and to judge, but they do tend to eventually come to their senses. And unless you're a Malfoy, they also tend to be rather forgiving."

"But I didn't _do_ anything to him!" Hermione snapped. "I didn't tell a soul what he was doing – _he's_ the one who shouted it to the whole common room! It isn't _my_ fault that he got in trouble for something he shouldn't have been doing in the first place! So what the hell does he have to forgive _me_ for? For risking my own standing as a Prefect to make sure he got on the Quidditch team? For setting him up with that cow of a girlfriend even though I knew she would make it a point to wave it in my face for however long it lasts? And Merlin knows he _certainly_ wouldn't have been getting sucked off in the dormitory if I hadn't pushed Lavender at him!"

The wizard visibly winced at the imagery accompanying the statement and then scowled at the ceiling. "I didn't _say_ that you had done anything _wrong_, Hermione. I only meant that if doesn't figure that out, he is still likely to forgive any _perceived_ wrong-doings."

"Oh, because _that_ makes it so much better!" she hissed, glaring at him. "Thank you so much for clearing that up."

Severus blew out a stabilizing breath as he considered how to defuse the situation. When the Dark Lord got in a snit, he would kowtow profusely and take a few rounds of the _Cruciatus_ in order to smooth over any feathers he may have inadvertently ruffled. Unforgiveables aside, he figured that dealing with a hormonally-charged teenaged girl could not be that far off of the mark.

"Forgive me, Hermione," he said softly, "I did not wish to upset you. I only wanted to assure you that your friendship with Mr. Weasley is likely not as broken as you think it to be, and that if you are patient with him, it will hopefully right itself. I apologize for anything I said that was inappropriate – it was not my place to do so."

The witch stared at him with a conflicted expression on her face. "Are you going to leave now?"

"If that is what you want," he replied calmly, folding his arms across his stomach as he leaned against a desk. "I had not figured that you were quite done shouting at me, however."

"I'm not _shouting_ at you!" she yelled.

The man donned a neutral expression and dipped his head. "My apologies. I must have been mistaken."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath and glared at the wall for a minute before spinning back to face him. "Why do _I_ have to be the one to be patient? _He_ doesn't have to deal with half of what I have to!"

_And whenever possible to do safely – a bit of flattery and finger-pointing can go a long way_. He cleared his throat and tilted his head. "Because you are far stronger and more stable than Weasley could ever hope to be. Teenaged boys in general are prone to excitement, and he in particular possesses neither the intellect nor the personal control that you often display."

As her anger quickly deflated, the girl dropped her shoulders and closed her eyes. Her voice was barely audible when she whispered, "But what if you're wrong?"

Letting out a small sigh, Snape pushed away from the table and moved to her side. Her eyes immediately locked onto his face when he raised her chin with one hand. "Because if he cares for you even a fraction of the extent you previously suspected – even if only as a friend –he will be back with his tail between his legs."

"How do you know?"

He pursed his lips together and briefly glanced at the wall behind her. "You'll just have to trust me on that."

After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly and then slipped her arms around his torso. Burying her face in his robes, she murmured a small word of gratitude.

Giving a nod, he held her for a few minutes before patting her on the shoulder. "Are you planning on eating lunch?"

"I'm not hungry right now," the witch said as she shook her head and stepped away from him. "I was just going to go to Transfiguration early and catch up on some of my reading for Madam Pomfrey."

"Alright," he responded hesitantly. "I do expect you to eat at supper, however. You did not manage more than a few bites of porridge this morning. You promised me that you would eat regularly this term."

"I know," she sighed, tugging her book bag over her shoulder. "I was just nervous about talking to Ron about Apparition lessons because I knew it would go about as well as it did."

"What _about_ the lessons?" he queried, eyeing her carefully.

Grimacing slightly, Hermione explained everything she had discussed with Harry the night before. "Was that alright?"

Severus raised one eyebrow in amusement. "Of course it was. You simultaneously erased any suspicion he could have had regarding yourself while heightening his ability to sense conspiracy outside of the confines of Slytherin House. He needs to remember that the Ministry cannot be trusted."

The girl nodded before smirking a moment later. "Though I should give you fair warning – you've managed to do something for Harry that I've never managed."

"Oh, do tell," he sneered, crossing his arms.

"Not only has he started working on his Potions essay _ahead_ of time, he's actually excited to do it – research and all."

The professor narrowed his eyebrows and frowned. "Why?"

"Now who's sensing conspiracy?" Hermione laughed, blushing slightly when he only stared at her. "Well, he seems to like the idea of the essay you set, but I think the fact that you passed him on the last one had a lot to do with it."

"Perhaps if he took more care with his assignments, he would obtain passing grades with more frequency," he countered moodily, moving toward the door.

The witch rolled her eyes as she followed him. "You do realize that he only regularly fails assignments in _your_ class, right? And did you know that he outright _refuses_ to ask you for help because he thinks you'll hold it against him? I didn't realize it until last night, but, despite the fact that he so blatantly dislikes you, he still values your opinion."

Pausing with one hand on the doorknob, he huffed loudly before glancing back at her. "And why would he do that?"

Hermione shrugged as she adjusted her bag. "Perhaps because he knows that you and I are friends. Or maybe because it's starting to sink in that you _do_ risk your life for the Order every day and that you _did_ actually help save our lives at the Ministry. Or maybe he hopes that one day you'll stop seeing him as his father. I don't know why exactly it is that he does, but at the moment, I don't think it matters all that much."

As he stared at her in shock, she smiled lightly and stepped past him to the door. "Oh, and he is really trying on this particular essay and he explicitly told me that he would like to pass again –"

"And he set you to the task of convincing me to do so?" he interrupted.

"No," she frowned. "He only told me that because he thinks you'll automatically fail him if he comes to you to ask a question on potion development. What I was _going_ to say was that he _is_ making the effort in your class, so it would be nice if you would actually mark him fairly. If you're just going to keep failing him because of who he is, then why would he ever take more care with his assignments?"

She turned to leave and as she opened the door, he coughed lightly and then called out to her. "We'll meet in the Room of Requirement for your lesson this evening."

Hermione gave one quick nod before slipping into the corridor, leaving him to stare at the door in uncomfortable thought. The Dark Lord may physically tear into him from time to time, but _he_ had never used guilt as a means of forcing him to re-examine his life. That particular form of torture was eerily reminiscent of the Albus Dumbledore school of thought.

Severus inhaled deeply as he suddenly realized that he was more preoccupied about avoiding her disapproval than either of his masters'.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione raised an eyebrow in surprise as the door to the Room of Requirement appeared immediately upon her approach. She was quite a bit earlier than usual since she only had to travel the length of a few corridors instead of several floors, and she was somewhat surprised that Snape had arrived even earlier than that. She had seen him leave early from supper, and she wondered if he had started preparing for their session then. If he had, she had a feeling she would be rather intimidated by what she might find beyond the door.

Taking in a steadying breath, she glanced around at the empty hallway and then reached for the ornate knob. An unpleasant feeling settled into her gut, and her eyes instinctually closed as she pushed open the door and slipped into the room.

"You're early," Severus commented, causing her to open her eyes.

"Didn't have far to walk," she murmured as she glanced about in uncertainty. The room had become a large chamber that had to be nearly four stories tall. There were large mats covering the floor, and behind the wizard was a platform as tall as he was. "Erm, what exactly are we doing?"

"You may not always be able to travel by apparition – whether it be because of wards, injury, or possible tracing – and going by foot may not be fast enough," he lectured as she hesitantly moved toward him. "Therefore, I think it necessary that we tackle that fear of flying of yours."

Her face visibly paled as she glanced back and forth between him and the platform. "No."

"No?" he repeated, raising both eyebrows.

"I can't do this," she shook her head. "I'm not ready to do this."

"Which is precisely the reason we are here," the man argued.

Hermione bit down on her lip and shook her head. "You can't just spring this on me – I need time to prepare. Do you _know_ how long it took to psyche myself up enough to make it through Madam Hooch's class?"

"Granger," he snapped, folding his arms. "If you're attempting to flee an attack, do you think your pursuers are just going to sit down and wait until you've calmed yourself down? If you haven't learned it by now, the Dark Lord's followers are not nearly that polite."

A small smirk quirked at her lips though she continued to eye the platform with trepidation.

"We are _here_ for that preparation," Snape continued. "We will go through the paces _now_ so that your focus will be where it should be if ever you are put in that position. I do not expect you to be comfortable with it after the conclusion of the evening, but over a series of sessions, you will face and eventually conquer your fear. Understood?"

Swallowing heavily, she nodded and absentmindedly began fiddling with her amethyst pendant. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Tonight, we're going to begin with the most important lesson in flying."

"Commanding the broom?" the Gryffindor asked, remembering the dismal performance that had been their first flying lesson.

He shook his head and donned a mischievous grin. "Falling."

"Oh god," she whimpered, wrapping her arms about her waist. "Madam Hooch doesn't start that way."

"That's because the majority of her students were raised in the magical world," the wizard responded. "They've generally learned at an early age that in some manner they can catch themselves if they fall – within reason, of course. A fair number of Muggleborn students have also experienced that by sheer chance. I do not see you, however, falling out of trees or off of playground equipment."

Hermione shook her head. She had fallen off of her bike or out of bed, but that had been about the extent of it. There had not been any weird uncles like Neville's to drop her out a window.

"Thus," he commented, gesturing toward the platform, "you learn now."

"From that height?" she gulped.

Snape snorted under his breath. "Granger, six feet will not kill you."

"It could," she protested.

"You have my word," he responded. "I will not allow you to injure anything vital."

"Okay," the witch whispered shakily as she approached the ladder on the side. She bit down on her lip as she began to climb and could not help but remember the day her father had tried to coax her up the tallest water slide at the swimming pool when she was six years old. It had ended with her in tears and him having to climb up to rescue her as dozens of impatient children waited in the hot sun for their turn.

Pulling herself to her feet on top of the sturdy platform, she swallowed nervously and looked down at the cushioned floor. Normally, this height would not affect her, but knowing that she was going to have to fall from it was far more daunting. "I think I'm going to vomit."

Severus shook his head as he stared up at her. "Might I then suggest aiming for up there. It would not be very pleasant to then fall in it."

"Shut it," she snapped. "You were the one who wanted me to eat supper. I told you that I very purposely did not eat before flying class."

"Granger, if you cannot do it on your own, I will push you," he sighed.

"No!" the girl squealed, holding up a finger in warning. She then tightened her fists as she asked, "Forward or backward?"

"Whichever you prefer."

Her eyes narrowed. "Well, I would prefer neither. So I just fall?"

"You just fall."

Taking in a deep breath, she talked herself into it for several minutes. "Come on, Granger – you were going to drop yourself out of a tower, for Merlin's sake. You can do this now."

The Slytherin knew well enough to keep his mouth shut as he overheard her chastising herself. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on her form, making certain that he would be ready to slow her fall when she finally did manage it.

Realizing that she simply could not do it face first, Hermione carefully turned around and then closed her eyes. Before she could change her mind, she stepped quickly back to the edge of the platform and leaned backwards. Her heart seemed to stop for a second as she felt herself falling and she squeezed her eyes shut, expecting a hard impact. Almost immediately, a warm tingling erupted across her body, and when she landed on the floor as gently as if she had simply lain down of her own accord, her eyes flew open in surprise. "Did you do that?"

Snape nodded as he stepped forward and extended his hand to her. "Eventually, it will be up to you to slow your fall – but at the moment, you need to overcome the initial fear."

"Easier said than done," she groaned as he pulled her to her feet.

He tipped his head. "Which is why we shall keep going."

Hermione grimaced, but shuffled back to the ladder when he pointed to it. For nearly half an hour, they repeated the same practice – she would drop off the edge of the platform with ever-decreasing hesitance, and he would quickly slow her momentum as she fell.

On her twelfth climb of the ladder, the witch found herself barely concerned about the upcoming fall. She knew that she was going to be alright – Severus would magically catch her and the landing would not hurt. Confidently, she walked to the edge of the platform, spun around, and fell backwards. There was a slight twitch in her stomach still, but she did not let that bother her as she felt tingling emanate from her fingertips and spread throughout her body. It seemed somewhat weaker this time, but at the same time, felt more secure.

After she hit the ground with slightly more force than on her previous falls, she narrowed her eyes in confusion and then pushed herself into a seated position. "Did you use a different spell that time?"

"No," he replied, leaning back in a chair that the Room had provided him some time before. A smirk graced his lips as he watched her haul herself to her feet. "In fact, I didn't do anything that time."

"What?" she squawked, looking to him in shock. "What do you mean?"

"That was entirely your own magic," he smiled, gesturing at her.

The girl shook her head. "But I didn't…"

"You've finally convinced yourself that falling wasn't dangerous – that you would land safely," Severus explained. "And your magic ensured that it would happen."

"Really?" she gasped, staring down at her hands in disbelief. "That's amazing."

"Congratulations," he remarked. "You now know what most two-year-old purebloods do."

Hermione scowled as she dropped her arms to her sides. "Gee, thanks."

"I did not mean it as an insult," the man responded, sitting forward. "I apologize that it sounded as such. I assure you that I did not know this at that age."

She took in a deep breath. "When did you, then?"

"I believe I was eight or nine."

"Your mother taught you?"

Snape shook his head as he rose from the chair. "I doubt it ever crossed her mind that I would have to be taught something as instinctual as that. No, I learned the hard way while clearing a dead bird out of the gutter. My fa – er, someone knocked over the ladder I was standing on."

"On purpose?" she gasped; her anger towards him forgotten.

He shifted uncomfortably and pointed back to the platform. "We're wasting time."

Blowing out a deep breath, she accepted the change in topic. "What are we…"

Her voice trailed off into a panicked expression when she looked over to see that the raised area she was to fall from had increased significantly in height.

"You've conquered six feet," he replied. "Now we strive for twelve."

"Oh, I really, _really_ dislike you right now."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Well, how long is this going to take?" Minerva asked as she led him into her office and closed the door. "I have a meeting with the Head Boy and Girl at ten-thirty."

"How lovely of you to squeeze this in," Snape sneered, nudging one of the armchairs with his foot. "I appreciate how you've made this a priority."

"Oh, simmer down," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "It isn't my fault that Albus saw fit to keep us so long, and _you're_ the one who picked a time without consulting _my_ schedule. And with all of the reading you expect me to manage, I've had to put my marking aside for the time being, which doesn't bode well for the rest of my weekend. I _am_ making this a priority, but I cannot afford to make it my _only_ prerogative."

The wizard sighed deeply but gave a nod and gestured to a chair.

"Are you going to sit as well, or are you going to continue looming?" she asked after having settled into her seat. When he offered no response, she frowned and snapped toward the other armchair. "Sit."

Severus begrudgingly took a seat and then crossed one leg over the other. "And what have you learned?"

The woman raised one eyebrow. "You're harassing me about my not having enough time for this, and you're going to waste part of the hour with a literature review?"

"I need to ascertain that you've actually done your reading," he countered grumpily.

"Well, why don't you just use Legilimency and figure it out yourself," McGonagall smirked. When he scowled in response and withdrew his wand, she cleared her throat and held up a finger in warning. "Before we begin, however, I want ground rules established."

The Slytherin huffed and then shook his hand impatiently. "Go on."

"First and foremost," she lectured, "if I tell you to stop, you do it immediately –"

"Fine."

"—Secondly, if you raise your voice at me or threaten me in any regard, you will leave this office with an alteration to your physical appearance that is representative of the level of your transgression –"

"Oh, sodding hell."

" – and thirdly, you will keep the scope of your _digging_ limited to topics with which you are already familiar."

"It does not exactly work like that," Snape exhaled.

"Well, _make_ it work like that," Minerva suggested, folding her arms.

He opened his mouth to continue arguing, but changed his mind and rolled his eyes instead. "I will try. Anything else your majesty requires?"

"No, that should – oh," she paused momentarily, touching the back of her head. "If you do happen to come across anything embarrassing, I demand no judgment on your part."

Severus lifted one eyebrow and quirked his lips. "And I thought Albus and the Dark Lord were challenging to appease."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione blew out a long breath and pinched her eyes shut for a moment. Upon reopening them, she shook her head and closed the book she had been reading. Tossing aside _From Brooms to Carpets: The Majestic Art of Flight_, she remembered the odd look that Madam Pince had given her upon signing out the book generally only read by first-year Muggleborns.

_Not that it helped anyway_. The young witch had practically memorized the book her first year, and rereading it now had not revealed any new insight. She was just going to have to rely upon Snape to coach her through it.

Glancing about her empty room, she remembered that Ginny had left to meet Dean for an afternoon stroll – and likely snog – on the snowy grounds, and that Mattie had disappeared with a few other seventh-years nearly an hour before.

_No one here to see me looking stupid, then_. Hermione bit her lip briefly before pushing up from where she had been lying on her stomach on her bed. Rising to her feet, she slipped out her wand and silently cast a cushioning charm upon the floor. She closed her eyes and, after mentally assuring herself that she could catch herself, fell backwards off of the bed.

A small giggle escaped her lips as she floated gently to the floor, and a minute later found her repeating the process. After several rounds, the girl continued lying on the rug and stared up at the ceiling. It was a rush; she could admit that now. There was a certain high accompanying the act of pushing past her fear and falling – safely, of course – through the air. Granted, her bed was only a meager two-and-a-half feet from the top of the mattress to the floor.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she glanced curiously about the space. A small grin crossed her face as she eyed her desk, and after taking a brief moment to clear away her homework and textbooks, she climbed on top of it. For a quarter of an hour, she practiced falling from the slightly-increased height. When she had grown bored with that accomplishment, she considered how to engineer a higher drop.

_Well, you could just go to the Room of Requirement_. Hermione snorted under her breath as she lifted her chair onto her desktop. _Where's the fun in that? Wait, _this_ is fun? Who am I?_

Casting a temporary sticking charm to ensure that the chair would not move, she stepped onto her bed, then onto her desk, and finally onto the seat of the wooden chair. There was not much room to turn about on the seat, so she had to focus intently on her balance. _Oh, this _is_ stupid, Granger. _

_Well, you've already come this far – you might as well follow through once._ Taking in a steadying breath, she concentrated on catching herself and then began shifting her weight in preparation for the fall.

"Oi, Granger!"

The sudden shout from across the room caused the brunette to startle and lose her balance. Toppling over, she plummeted to the floor, banging her elbow hard against the corner of the desk and landing awkwardly on her ankle. Fortunately, the cushioning charm on the floor was enough to save her from any further injury.

"Are you alright?" Mattie asked, rushing over to her in concern.

Blinking away the tears that had formed in response to her pain and embarrassment, she nodded.

"What in Merlin's name were you doing?"

Hermione covered her face with the hand of her uninjured arm and groaned. She knew the pureblood witch would never understand. "Falling."

"Well, you've certainly accomplished that, haven't you?" Mattie scoffed, shaking her head and stepping away from the other girl. "You have officially lost your head, Grange. Seriously, woman."

With a small whimper, the younger witch pulled herself to her feet. She grimaced slightly upon stepping with her twisted ankle, but ignored the pain long enough to set her desk back to rights. Not trusting herself to repair any possible damage to her joints after only having read through the spells, Hermione held her head high as she limped toward the staircase and left her roommate behind to laugh hysterically in her absence.

"Should've gone to the Room of Requirement," she grumbled, scowling at the ground as she made her way to the infirmary. "So stupid."

By the time she reached the ground floor, the witch had successfully shrugged off the concern of a number of her fellow students. She was only grateful that none of them had been privy to the scene that Mathina had been, and that she knew the elder girl was not likely to gossip about it.

"Miss Granger."

_Crud_. Taking in a deep breath, she turned around to see Severus eyeing her carefully from the staircase. His gaze fixed on her carefully cradled elbow before flicking to the ankle she was currently favoring. "Yes, Professor?"

"Is there someone in need of a detention?"

Hermione winced, ducking her head as she shook it. Her cheeks felt hot with shame. "No, I just… _fell_."

"You _fell_?" he repeated, narrowing his eyes at the insinuation.

She nodded weakly. "I was distracted when I fell."

"I see," Snape frowned, crossing his arms. "Perhaps it would be wise not to attempt whatever it was you were doing if you cannot give it the proper attention it requires."

"Yes, sir," she murmured upon seeing a number of Hufflepuff students walking past. With a glimmer of a smile, she turned on her heel and continued toward the Hospital Wing.

**'Hermione, what is it exactly you were doing?'**

_Of course he won't let it go_, she sighed, nudging open the door. _ 'I was practicing.'_

There was a moment of silence while she thought about her foolish attempt, and she wondered briefly if he had cancelled the connection already.

**'No. I was merely enjoying the imagery.'**

_'Oh, stop. It isn't funny.'_

"Oh, Hermione," Poppy called, stepping out from her office. "I wasn't expecting you until after supper."

**'Are you seriously injured?'**

_'I don't think so. I only want Madam Pomfrey to check to be sure.'_

**'Then I find it funny.'**

The girl muttered spitefully under her breath.

"Is something the matter?" the matron nurse asked as she conducted a visual assessment of her apprentice.

Hermione nodded slightly and extended her injured arm. "I fell."

"Oh dear," the mediwitch cooed, casting a diagnostic spell. "You should be more careful."

**'And pay attention.'**

She rolled her eyes slightly and nodded when Poppy glanced at her. "I know."

"Well, no real damage done," the woman smiled, "except perhaps to your pride. Of course, you'll likely need to put a spot of bruise paste on that elbow when you come down for your shift this evening, but your ankle should be alright in a moment or two."

**'I told you that six feet would not kill you.'**

'_Would you stop?_' She groaned softly_. 'And it was only five feet!'_

"Oh, don't fret," Pomfrey smiled, patting her shoulder. "And I'll make sure to start training you on the diagnostic charms soon. Then you won't have to come all the way down here unless you absolutely need to."

**'That may be useful if you continue to display such reckless behavior. Have Potter and Weasley finally rubbed off on you?**'

Determined to ignore his teasing, Hermione fought off a smirk and cleared her throat. "And what shall I be working on tonight?"

"Well, I've gone through a few more doses of the Blood-Replenishing Potion since we last inventoried thanks to Quidditch practices starting up again, and I have an inkling that we'll need some extra on hand. I never like to let that get much lower than full stock because there isn't time to brew it when you need it the most."

The girl nodded in understanding and then shifted nervously. "I've never brewed that before."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine. I have Professor Snape's personal instructions for you to follow." At seeing the continued hesitance on the young witch's face, Poppy took in a slow breath. "Miss Granger, if you're worried about him stopping by to check up on you, I will not leave him alone with you unless you are entirely comfortable with it."

"Oh," Hermione murmured in vague confusion. _'That's not why I'm worried, you know.'_

**'You would prefer it if I _did_ stop by,'** he surmised.

_'At least until I know I can do it.'_

**'Very well. I shall be there.'**

'_Thank you.'_

"There's a girl," Pomfrey smiled, noticing the sudden relief on Hermione's face. "Now, go enjoy the remainder of your afternoon. I have a feeling it will be a long night."

"Alright, I will see you in a few hours," the young witch replied, turning away. '_Severus_?'

'**Yes?'**

'_Why won't she let you be alone with me?'_

A moment passed before his response came. '**She treated you that night. She knows that I… hurt you.' **

_'Oh.'_ Hermione frowned as she pulled open the infirmary door and briefly glanced back at the nurse before slipping out into the corridor. It was obvious that the witch would have known something since she had been the one to treat her so many months before, and it was not as if Severus could have covered up anything. It was not exactly possible to point the finger elsewhere when he had signed his own work. _'Does she know that you were the one who –'_

**'She never asked, but I never denied it.'**

_'You could have.'_ When he made no immediate response, she paused on the landing of the staircase and looked out the window. _'I could tell her that it was someone else –'_

'**It does not matter, so please let it be.**'

'_It matters to me!'_ The witch pinched the bridge of her nose as she sat in the window sill. '_I don't want her thinking that it was something you chose to do.'_

Hermione had nearly a minute to herself to consider just how much she detested the idea of him being thought a monster before he finally spoke again.

**'Poppy knows the nature of my assignment for the Order and has treated a portion of my bumps and bruises for twenty-five years. She doesn't ask me questions because seventeen years ago, I told her that even if I were allowed to tell her what had happened, I would not want her to know. I am certain that she knows – or at least suspects – what monstrosities I am capable of performing, but considering she still fusses over my injuries when I let her see them, I believe she knows that they are never my choice. She understands that there are certain… obligations that come with my position.'**

The girl shifted uncomfortably as she listened and then rubbed the back of her neck. Not knowing quite what to say, she turned back to look out the window at the falling snow. A short while later, she crossed her arms and wondered if he still had yet to close the connection.

'**I will leave you be.'**

_'Wait!'_

**'Yes?'**

Hermione bit down on her lip. _'Speaking of obligations… next week won't be ideal.'_

She could practically hear him grimacing from wherever it was in the castle he had gone.

**'Then we shall meet when you have completed your shift in the infirmary tonight.'**

Nodding gently, the girl pushed out of the window alcove and continued up the staircase.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

With a soft sigh, Severus set down his fork and leaned back in his chair. Though he had spent half an hour at the staff table, his plate was still nearly full, but he truly had no appetite for it. Sometime after he had silenced the connection with Hermione earlier that afternoon, a slight gnawing feeling had settled into his gut and it had only strengthened since. Of course it did make him feel odd to know that the girl was so concerned with how others viewed him, but he did not believe that was entirely to blame for his current level of uneasiness.

Something was brewing, and it could not be anything good.

His eyes locked onto Hermione as she said goodbye to her friends and left the Hall in the direction of the infirmary. He watched a handful of other students migrating away from the Gryffindor table before swinging his gaze back to those of his own House. While a number of the students were chatting jovially amongst each other, Draco was noticeably subdued as he pushed peas around his plate.

For the past week, Severus had been watching the Malfoy heir with greater scrutiny than he had previously. Whatever it was that the boy had been assigned to do, he appeared to be failing miserably and was undeniably scared. Snape had witnessed his eyes drifting in Hermione's direction several times, and it was clear that the suspicion was gradually morphing into curiosity.

In spite of his impatient desire to know what they were up against, however, the Potions Master knew it could not be rushed. Draco had to come to them on his own time. If he were pressured too soon, it would only spook him further and make a second attempt that much harder.

When a group of sixth- and seventh-year Slytherins began moving away from the table, the young Malfoy quietly slipped out of his seat and followed them out of the room.

A throat clearing drew his attention back to the Head Table. Glancing across the empty seat between them to Lupin, he raised one eyebrow.

Regrettably, the werewolf took that as an invitation to slip into the seat beside him. "I was just curious…"

"Yes?" he snapped, folding his arms. "I haven't got all night to spend on your curiosity."

Remus grimaced slightly and glanced about him before proceeding. "How are your private lessons coming along?"

Severus tightened his mouth as he rolled his shoulders. "Well, she hasn't yet asked to be excused from them."

"Ah, well that's… good," the greying wizard mumbled, trying to ignore the dig against him. After a moment, he scratched his head. "I was also wondering, erm…"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Snape groaned. "Spit it out."

"Would it be possible for me to sit in on a lesson or two?"

The spy let out a loud sigh and glared at the tabletop.

"Purely out of professional curiosity," Remus clarified, leaning onto his elbow. "With how Hermione and Neville have both responded to your teaching, I thought perhaps I could learn something myself."

Scraping the edge of the table with his fingernail, Severus gradually shrugged. "I shall ask Miss Granger when I evaluate her Hospital brewing this evening if she would be amenable to that."

"Thank you, Severus."

The dark-haired man grunted as he rose from his seat. "I cannot imagine she'll be too chuffed to hear that she'll have to spend the entire lesson with her knickers on."

As the Defense instructor gave a whimpering laugh, Snape stepped down from the dais and strode toward the exit. Between Hermione's still somewhat distant behavior, Draco's dangerous uncertainty, Lupin's need to stick his nose where it didn't belong, and Dumbledore's secretly imminent demise, it was nigh impossible to determine just which twig was threatening to snap first.

Upon reaching the staircase descending into the dungeons, however, a familiar burn erupted across his left forearm.

_And there it is._

Momentarily closing his eyes in despair, the wizard spun on his heel and quickly moved toward the large doors of the Entrance Hall. Without pausing in his stride, he silently cast warming and impermeability charms upon his teaching robes before pushing out into the crisp, night air.


	56. Broken

**A/N: I didn't manage to deal with Remus or Draco in this chapter, but it is forthcoming. The muse decided to throw in a different hoop for them to jump through, however. Thank you all for reading and reviewing!**

**And, I'm excited to have finally caught up with naming all of the chapters. **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 56**

After firmly securing her apron, Hermione took in a calming breath and smoothed out the few creases in the parchment lying on the work bench. She glanced up at the small clock briefly before reading through the entirety of the instructions penned in the familiar spiky script of the Hogwarts Potions Master. When she finally finished a handful of minutes later, she nibbled on her bottom lip.

_Well, it definitely isn't any more difficult than the Polyjuice Potion. It certainly doesn't take an entire month to brew._ The witch scratched her forehead as she quickly skimmed through it again. _Still five hours, though._

"Oh, it's going to be a long night, isn't it?" she sighed mournfully.

"I'm afraid so," Pomfrey murmured, stepping into the small brewing laboratory attached to the infirmary to deliver a basket of sterile glass vials. "But I shall not bother you with anything else unless I absolutely have to."

"Alright," the girl shrugged. "I suppose I should get started then."

"Of course," the nurse smiled. "If you need anything, dear, just give a shout. I shall do the same if I must."

With that, the woman swept out of the room and disappeared from sight.

"Okay, okay, okay, okay," Hermione whispered to herself as she mentally began listing everything she would need to get ready. She was not quite sure why she felt so nervous about brewing the Blood-Replenishing Potion. Even though it would be her first time, she had tackled equally difficult brews with half as much anxiety. Granted, it was a bit nerve-wracking to know that her product would actually be used on injured students or staff members, but that fact had not seemed to bother her at all when working on the Fever Reducer last week. _So why am I so nervous now?_

_You're working yourself up over nothing, Granger. It's going to be alright. It's just one potion. _

Not quite believing her own reassurances, the Gryffindor witch eyed the clock again and then set in on the ingredient preparations. It simply would not do to waste time when Severus was taking time out of his schedule to check her eventual progress.

Nearly forty-five minutes later, after she had finished preparing everything – except for the rat spleens, which had thankfully already been minced upon her arrival – and the potion base was cheerily bubbling in the medium-sized iron cauldron, a knock on the door jamb immediately drew her attention. Expecting to see the familiar black robes standing before her, she frowned slightly at the realization that the matron nurse was alone.

"Just thought I'd pop in to see how you were doing," Poppy explained before peering over the lip of the cauldron. "Looks like you aren't having much trouble at all, are you? I shouldn't be surprised, though, seeing as Professor Snape holds your work in such high regard."

"He does?"

"Mmm," Madam Pomfrey nodded. "I mentioned to him just before supper what you would be working on this evening, and he told me that he did not foresee you struggling with it in the least, which is high praise from that man."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes brightened somewhat as she perched on a stool.

The mediwitch smiled at her and then cleared her throat. "He did say he may drop in to take a peek at it, but that's really only because he is quite… _particular_ about brewing, as I'm sure you've noticed."

The girl chuckled softly and ducked her head. "I think 'particular' may be a nice way of phrasing it."

"I certainly thought so, yes," Poppy smirked. "He is a rather, shall we say, _intense_ man."

"He is," Hermione agreed quietly. She paused a moment before daring to add, "But I think he generally does it for the right reasons."

The woman's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she nodded eagerly. "So do I, Miss Granger. So do I."

An odd silence pervaded the room as the two witches were lost to their own thoughts. The sound of charm broke their concentration a few minutes later, and the nurse quickly turned to attend to whomever it was that had entered the infirmary.

"Erm, Madam Pomfrey?"

The witch paused in the doorway and glanced back at her apprentice.

"I just wanted to say that…erm," she swallowed quickly, knowing that the nurse's attention was likely needed elsewhere, "well, despite what he had to do to me, I am well aware that he saved my life that night and several times since. And I want you to know that I do trust him… whole-heartedly."

A small smile appeared on Poppy's face as she dipped her head in acknowledgement. "I'm glad that you do. There aren't enough people that feel the same way."

She looked prepared to say something else, but thought better of it and disappeared into the main room of the Hospital Wing. Hermione briefly pondered what it could have been before the spluttering of the potion demanded her attention. Wrinkling her nose slightly, she reached for the metal pan that held the appropriate number of minced rat spleens and quickly plopped them into the boiling liquid.

Fighting off the urge to gag at the slight stench emanating from the cauldron, she backed away from the table and slid back onto her stool. The brew would need to continue as it was for another half hour, and there was really nothing for her to do in the meantime but observe it for irregularities.

The absolute lack of physical demands meant, of course, that her mind quickly set to wandering. While she spent a few minutes considering Ron, Harry, and Draco, her attention continued to drift toward Severus and the clock. The Potions Master had promised he would be there to provide any assistance she may need – and she suspected he was the one responsible for completing the worst part of the ingredient prep – but so far there had been no sign of him. She had been working for more than an hour already and was beginning to wonder just when it was he was planning on showing himself.

Frowning, Hermione glanced into the cauldron to verify that nothing looked odd and then closed her eyes. She decided it was easy enough to ask him now, lest he was waiting for her signal. She focused on casting the mental patronus and hoped he would recognize that it was not an emergency situation. After she sent it, she took in a deep breath while she waited for his response.

The girl continued to wait for several minutes until she began to doubt whether she had actually performed the charm correctly. As an unexplained fear began to creep in, she quickly repeated the process and then chewed on her lip.

Still no response arrived.

_Severus, where are you?_ Her anxiety level immediately ten-fold, she ran her hands through her hair as she thought about what to do. He was not answering her, and she could not leave her present task to check his office or quarters. She could not exactly call Madam Pomfrey and mention her concerns because she could not exactly explain them in a way that could make sense without true context.

Suddenly, she remembered Severus telling her that he had given Dobby instructions to provide her assistance whenever she was in need of it. Without wasting a second, she hissed the elf's name quietly.

The creature appeared with a loud 'pop' and a smile. "Hermione Granger needs Dobby?"

"Yes," she nodded, leaning forward. "I need you to tell me where Professor Snape is, please."

"Dobby will find out!" he beamed before disappearing.

Unable to wait in silence, Hermione began drumming her finger tips on the edge of a table. The seconds dragged into minutes until the familiar crack signaled the house-elf's return.

"Dobby was looking for Master Snape, sir, but he isn't being in any of his rooms," he sighed. "Spitsy tells Dobby that she saw Master Snape, sir leaving the castle right after he was eating his supper. Master Snape, sir wasn't having on any winter cloak, either, and he isn't being back yet."

Hermione's stomach twisted violently as everything came together in her head. He had not kept his appointment with her and was not responding to her calls because he could not at the moment. He had left in a hurry without having prepared himself or given notice. There was only one explanation – Voldemort had summoned him.

"Oh gods," she whispered, wrapping her arms about her waist. _He's already been gone an hour. What if he's in trouble? If he was fine, he would have answered me._

"Dobby," the girl stated, drawing in strength as she debated what could have happened, "I need you to go to Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall. Tell them what you've told me and also make sure that they know he isn't responding to me. It's very important that you tell them this because he may need help."

The house-elf's eyes widened in urgency. "Dobby will do everything he can to help Master Snape, sir!"

When the elf disappeared once more, Hermione leaned forward on her stool and covered her face with her hands. Whatever was happening, she knew she needed to pull herself together and quickly.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Severus!"

The Potions Master barely had time to recognize that he had arrived in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor before he felt his mind ripped open. The veracity in which the Dark Lord tore through his memories was enough to bring the spy to his knees.

Grimacing at the level of pain, Snape balled his hands into fists and forced himself to pay attention to which images Voldemort was trying to call forth.

_Hermione_. All of the memories had to with her. Anything truly dangerous regarding her had been painstakingly tucked away behind his shields. There was no threat of those being discovered, but that knowledge was not enough to assuage his fears. _What exactly is he looking for?_

"So it is true, then!" The tyrant snarled, withdrawing abruptly after witnessing Snape asking the girl if scrubbing bedpans in the infirmary was to blame for her inattention.

"My Lord?" the younger wizard gasped, panting in exertion.

"I had heard a troubling report, Severus," Voldemort hissed, stalking dangerously around his spy. "Your orders were to keep the girl at the brat's side – to distract him and exploit his trust!"

"My Lord – we have been –"

"You allowed her to withdraw from class!" The snake-like man leaned down and shouted in his face. "From Defense! Where the Potter brat fully expects her to be! You were _not_ to arouse suspicion!"

Severus squeezed his eyes shut momentarily and spoke quietly. "My Lord, I can explain. It was not a decision I made lightly –"

"It was not a decision _you_ were permitted to make!"

"Forgive me, my Lord. I did not intend –"

His words died upon his lips as the frenzied mental assault started up again. Knowing now what the Dark Lord was after, though, he shut out the pain as he forced through the string of falsified memories he had prepared in case this very situation were to arise.

_"What about Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked, sinking into a chair in his office. When Snape only raised his eyebrow in question, she continued. "He's been watching me."_

_"Watching you?"_

_"I-in class…and at meals." She frowned. "It's like he's always concerned that I'm either going to blow up or fall apart. It's rather annoying, actually."_

Severus felt a small twinge of relief when the dark wizard latched onto the image with fevered interest and pulled forth the next connected fabrication.

_Remus glanced warily in both directions down the empty corridor and then turned back to face the bushy-haired girl. "May I escort you somewhere? Unless you've more to discuss with Professor Dumbledore -"_

_"No!" she interrupted quickly. "I've had just about enough of him - for today. I mean, I was heading back to Gryffindor Tower. I wouldn't mind company."_

_The man dipped his head and waited for her to take the lead._

_"Have you seen much of Harry?" she asked as they started walking. "I feel like ages have passed since I saw him last. I can't believe it's only been a matter of weeks."_

_The unkempt wizard gave a mournful smile, and replied upon reaching the stairs. "I have not seen as much of him as I would have liked. He's still hurting, understandably of course, but I think he has come to terms with it, for the most part."_

_Hermione nodded quickly._

_As they waited for the staircases to stop moving, Remus fixed her with a sincere gaze. "You and Harry have had to deal with so much in your few years. You've had to grow up so quickly, and I deeply regret the necessity of it all. I think that you especially, Hermione, have grown into a fine witch."_

_She swallowed nervously as she stepped onto one of the floating staircases. Her voice quivered slightly as she asked, "Oh?"_

_"If you're ever in need of someone to talk to - about anything - my door is always open to you."_

As Voldemort continued pressing on the line of thought, the staircase nearest Gryffindor Tower melted into the Defense classroom.

_"Miss Granger," Remus addressed her, "may I have a moment of your time?"_

_She nodded slowly and waited silently for the classroom to empty. _

_The disheveled professor watched Ron and Harry leave before turning back to face Hermione. His countenance melted into one of concern, and he leaned back against his desk. "Are you feeling better? I heard you were quite ill at the Welcoming Feast."_

_"Er, yeah," she shifted nervously. "I was feeling rather unwell, but it's been taken care of now. I'm better now."_

_"Good," he smiled. "I am glad Madam Pomfrey could set you to rights."_

_She closed her eyes and nodded._

_"I meant what I said to you that day, Hermione," he said after clearing his throat. "If ever you have the need to talk, my door will always be open to you. Do not hesitate to approach me. Is there anything you wish to discuss now?"_

_Hermione swallowed heavily at his hopeful expression and shook her head. "No, sir - but I do have to get to History."_

A small grunt escaped the Order spy as the pain in his head began building. He could feel the satisfaction radiating from Voldemort as he continued forcing his way through the memories.

_"Lupin!" Snape growled angrily, pushing away from his colleague. "Accosting me in the hallway? My, my – old habits do die hard, don't they? Pity neither Potter nor Black are here to give you a pat on the back for your efforts."_

_"Shut up, Snape!" Remus shouted as he slammed the door shut and cast a silencing spell. "Why didn't you tell me about Hermione Granger?"_

_Severus narrowed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. "And just what, pray tell, do you think I have neglected to mention?"_

_"You didn't say anything about her being injured! You should have told me!"_

_"What business is it of yours –"_

_"Don't give me that rubbish! You lied about what happened!"_

_"I am not the one who made the decision as to what to tell the Order!" Severus shouted back. "Take it up with Dumbledore if your tail is that bent out of shape over it!"_

_"We should have been told," Remus argued._

_"Why? Did you want to be her furry knight in armor – is that it? Lusting after a student, are we?"_

_The werewolf's face turned red before he smashed his fist against a desk and panted in anger for several seconds. He turned toward the other wizard with a dark look on his face. "Who was it?"_

_Snape scowled and shook his head. "No."_

_"Tell me who it was! I know damn well that you know who did it!"_

_"If I did," he spat, "why would I tell you?"_

_Rage flared in Lupin's eyes as he grabbed hold of Snape's robes and slammed him against the wall._

_Severus winced momentarily as the back of his head cracked against the blackboard, but recovered quickly and unsheathed his wand. Pressing the tip of it firmly into the soft tissue covering the other man's jugular, he glowered dangerously as he knocked Remus's hands away from his chest._

_"Touch me again, Lupin, and the Headmaster will have to find himself another Defense instructor!"_

The scene in his head jumped violently to the Hogwarts staffroom.

_"Severus," Dumbledore called out as the staff meeting dispersed. "If you wouldn't mind, I have some additions for you to make to your lesson plans."_

_Snape scowled, but hung back from the retreating crowd. When he noticed Lupin approaching the Headmaster, he glared in his direction._

_"I wondered if I might have a word with you," Remus said quietly._

_"I suppose that would depend upon the word," Albus twinkled._

_Remus folded his arms and glanced hesitantly in Snape's direction. "It's about Miss Granger."_

_"What about Miss Granger?" the Headmaster queried._

_He sighed softly and frowned at the floor. "I think perhaps, she may be acting out."_

_Snape arched his eyebrow and stepped closer. "Is she not playing nicely with the other kiddies? Throwing tantrums in class? Did she piss in your chair perhaps?"_

_"Severus," Dumbledore admonished before turning back to the werewolf. "If you could perhaps explain what you mean?"_

_"I meant she may be acting out _sexually_," he clarified._

_Snape adopted a neutral expression while the Headmaster's eyes widened. After the werewolf explained, the former held an accusatory glare. "You're sniffing students now? Surely that has to be breaking at least one of the by-laws!"_

_"Severus, calm down."_

_"Calm down?" he shouted, turning to the elder wizard beside him. "I'm not the one snuffling student's backsides as they pass me in the hallway!"_

_"Severus, I am certain that is not quite what he meant."_

_"No, it isn't," Remus agreed. "I wasn't smelling her on purpose – it just happened that I…caught a whiff."_

_"Oh, you caught a whiff," Snape grumbled. "And then you just happened to search the rest of the castle hoping to catch another whiff."_

_The Defense instructor frowned. "If you're implying again that I acted out of jealousy, you are highly out of line."_

_"I'm not the one sticking my nose where it doesn't belong."_

Maniacal laughter permeated through his conscience, and Snape realized the Dark Lord was highly amused by what he was finding.

_"Miss Granger, if you would – I'd like to speak to you for a moment after class."_

_Hermione cautiously glanced up at Remus as she packed her bag and nodded. "Was there something you needed, sir?" _

_Lupin narrowed his eyes slightly as he leaned against the edge of his desk. "Hermione, is there something _you_ need to talk about?"_

_"No." She bit her lip as she shook her head._

_The wizard exhaled loudly in response and lowered his chin. "I have tried to keep my distance from you… but I have concerns."_

_"Concerns?"_

_His eyes held a saddened glaze within them as he folded his arms against his chest. "What is the nature of the relationship between you and Cormac McLaggen?"_

_Hermione bristled at the question and fixed him with a pointed stare. "I don't see how that's any of your business, but there isn't one."_

_"Mr. McLaggen seems to think there is," Remus countered._

_"Because he's delusional," she snapped. "And completely incapable of listening."_

_"It may be difficult for him to hear what you are saying if you are…encouraging him in…other manners."_

_The witch dropped her jaw in disbelief. "What?"_

_Remus winced at her reaction and wiped his face with one hand. "Hermione, I did not mean – "_

_"No, I don't care what you meant," she interrupted, quickly returning to her table. As she snatched up her book bag, she glanced back at him. "Perhaps he'll be discouraged enough then when Harry and I go to Hogsmeade together."_

_His eyes widened suddenly in surprise. "You and Harry?"_

_"Yes," she nodded forcefully. "Harry and I. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm certain there's a line of students waiting for your class, Professor."_

_"Let them wait, then," he responded bitterly. "I am under no obligation to allow them in until their scheduled time. We're still discussing –"_

_"I would rather not discuss anything further, actually," she said softly. "I'm supposed to meet Harry to work on Potions in the library."_

If this paid off, Severus knew he was going to have to thank Hermione for the use of the memories he had borrowed from her during their first session of the term. In the short time he had had to prepare, it was far easier to edit those than it had been to create all of them from scratch.

_Hermione stood before him, her gaze moistened and pointed at the floor. "Please, sir. I don't want to take his course anymore. If I have to, then I will… but… he scares me, sir."_

_"You're supposed to be watching Potter," he stated coldly, crossing his arms to his chest. "The Headmaster insists that Lupin is merely looking out for you."_

_The young witch sighed and shifted on her feet. "By looking out for me, does he mean assailing me in the hallway on my way to supper, shoving me up against a statue, and offering to provide me _private instruction_?"_

_"He _what_?" Severus hissed, snapping his gaze to her forearms where bruises were just beginning to form. _

_"Harry… he knows," she whimpered. "He was there in the corridor, and saw him grab me. He would understand, sir, if I withdrew… I've never really been good at Defense anyway…"_

Severus fell forward onto his elbows as the Dark Lord finally pulled out of his head.

"_When_ was this?"

"N-night… the night before t-term started, my Lord," he gasped in response to the angry bellow. Pulling himself together, the wizard spoke much more confidently as he explained, "She came to me because the bond needed to be renewed. She had been with Potter for so long that it had weakened, which was why I knew nothing of it until she informed me.

"Forgive me, my Lord. I did not think it could wait, so I sent her to Dumbledore to report it. There was a meeting in his office, the wolf was admonished but unfortunately not sacked, and the arrangement with the infirmary was made to ensure the girl's cooperation."

Voldemort glared down at him through red slits. "And what of her Defense training? Surely, the old fool had something to say about that!"

Snape nodded quickly as he pushed back onto his haunches. "He demanded that I give her private lessons on the nights she is not scheduled in the infirmary. I verbally agreed, but will not do so unless it pleases you, my Lord. The girl has been commanded to lie should anyone inquire as to the nature of our meetings."

"Oh, you _will_ train her!" the serpentine man growled as he grabbed hold of his spy's face. "You will turn that little mudblood whore of yours into a formidable opponent that Potter will never see coming. The boy surrounds himself with love – the fool! – and when the time comes, your little pet is going to tear out his heart right before I stop its infuriating beating! Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Lord."

Snorting in disgust, the Dark Lord tossed his subordinate's head to the side and stepped away from him. "And if that _dog_ ever paws at the girl again, _you_ will alert me immediately, and we will PUT HIM _DOWN_!"

"Yes, my Lord," Severus responded softly, uncertain at first as to whether the excited whisperings that had exploded in response to the tyrant's declaration were real or simply productions of his addled brain. The room was tilting slightly on its axis as he held himself rigidly in place, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to curb the urge to vomit at the dark wizard's pale, bare feet. Knowing full well that the act would be a mistake worse than the transgression he was already being punished for, he cursed the fact that a fortnight had not been long enough to fully heal the brain injury that Lupin had gifted him for his birthday.

His eyes sluggishly followed his dark master's pacing for what seemed like several minutes. When Voldemort finally turned back with a predatory gleam in his eyes, a sense of dread immediately washed over the Potions Master.

"Bellatrix," the reptilian wizard cooed, calling his most loyal follower forward.

_So there is an audience, then. Fantastic. _

"Yes, my Lord?" the deranged witch sang.

Snape's lip twitched in a grimace when her fingertips briefly caressed his cheek as she sauntered past. The woman's ministrations elicited his gag response on a normal day, and the effect was only heightened now.

"It seems your information was valid."

Though he kept his blurry eyes trained on the uneven hem of her skirts, the professor could practically hear the devilish grin spreading across her face.

"Sevvy's itty, bitty slut-slut wants to play doctor, does she?" Bellatrix leered over her shoulder at the kneeling man, who fought the desire to roll his eyes.

"Well, if she wants to be a Healer," Voldemort smiled, "then it would only be considerate of us to provide her the opportunity to hone her skills, would it not?"

Bellatrix's eyes were wide with pleasure as she chimed in, raising her wand. "Practice does make perfect, my Lord."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The eerie, foreboding silence that had permeated the small brewing laboratory was suddenly broken by an onslaught of commotion. Hermione had just completed a set of twenty-six spiraling stirs when she heard the sounds of the alerting charm activating as the infirmary doors were thrown open with a bang. A muffled shout told her that Professor McGonagall needed the matron nurse's help with someone.

The potion would remain relatively stable for a few minutes without her complete attention, so the witch set down her cast iron stirring rod and inched toward the doorway. Poking her head out into the short corridor, she caught sight of Madam Pomfrey rushing out of one of the private examination rooms and disappearing into the main room.

"Oh, I had a bad feeling about this, Minerva!"

Hermione narrowed her brow and took one more half step into the hallway. Within a few seconds, she ducked back into the room slightly as the two elder witches accompanied a floating stretcher into the room that the mediwitch had just exited. Due to the positioning of her Head of House, she had been unable to see the injured person's face or body, but the brief glimpse of the dragonhide boots was enough to ascertain his identity.

"Severus," she whispered, clutching onto the door jamb in misery. "No, no, no!"

"Miss Granger!"

The brunette's eyes widened in fear as Poppy stuck her head out of the room.

"Get me the rest of the Blood-Replenishing supply, now! Quickly!"

Nodding, Hermione wordlessly cast a stasis charm on the simmering cauldron before sprinting down the corridor to the storeroom. She grabbed a basket from the wall and rushed immediately to the correct shelf to grab the three vials that were left.

_Three? There was twice this many two hours ago._ Panicked, the witch began glancing wildly about the room, but spotted no further flasks of the dark-hued potion. With a frustrated groan, she made her way back to the private room as fast as she could.

"Madam Pomfrey, I –" her words died away as soon as she saw McGonagall coaxing one flask's worth of Blood-Replenishing Potion down the Slytherin's throat. _The vials aren't missing – they're just not enough!_

"Thank you," Poppy murmured half-heartedly as she took the basket and set it atop the counter next to the other two flasks. The doors of a large cupboard on the wall were thrown open, and the girl could see fever reducers, headache relievers, pain killers, Essence of Dittany, strengthening solutions, bone menders, and an entire row of the light blue potion that Snape had needed while suffering the after-effects of the _Cruciatus_.

"D-do you need anything else?" Hermione mumbled, forcing herself to remain calm on the outside. Internally, however, she was screaming.

"I may," the nurse replied as she began casting her diagnostic charms.

Taking that as an instruction to stay nearby, but out of the way, the young witch stepped into the corner and watched while her newest mentor set to work. Tears were stinging at her eyes as they traced over Severus's silent, unmoving form. The little skin she could see was so pale that it was practically translucent, and most of it was covered in streaks of blood. His nose looked far more crooked than normal, his face was beginning to swell, and there were visible gashes in his robes. He appeared so damaged that if it had not been for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he could have been mistaken for dead.

"Internal bleeding," Pomfrey mumbled, "we'll need to start there before we do anything else."

Biting down on her lip, Hermione sniffled quietly and wrapped her arms about her midsection. When the matron nurse suddenly vanished all of the man's clothing, save for his underpants, the girl failed to curb the horrified squeal that escaped her.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva stated quietly from her position at the head of the bed.

The young witch appeared not to have heard her for a moment, but gradually tore her eyes away from the angry-looking lacerations and purplish contusions that covered the man's torso and legs. She met the Deputy Headmistress's sad gaze and then took in a deep breath.

"Are you alright?" McGonagall murmured while the mediwitch began tending to Snape's abdomen with elaborate spell-work. "If it is too much for you, you do not need to stay."

Hermione willed herself to remain together as she cleared her throat. "No, I'm… I'm okay. I'm… I want to do anything I can to help him."

When Madam Pomfrey nodded her head, the professor motioned the girl to her side. "I have some measure of Healing prowess due to my time in law enforcement, but when it comes to these situations, I merely do whatever it is that Poppy tells me to do. She is by far the most competent Healer that I know, and could run circles about an entire team of specialists at St. Mungo's. If you pay attention to what she is doing and how she goes about it, it will benefit you greatly. Her patients are in the most capable hands, despite what anyone may have said."

The young woman heard a soft snort from the other side of the bed, and glanced over to see the briefest smirk appear on the matron nurse's face.

"Now then," Minerva continued speaking softly. "If you could take over for me for a few moments, I need to contact Professor Dumbledore."

"Alright," Hermione muttered nervously, stepping closer. "What is it I'm doing?"

"Not much of anything, but important nonetheless," the woman replied. "There is little doubt that Professor Snape was subjected to the _Cruciatus_ this evening, and at the moment, we are trying to beat the clock – if you will – in regards to the after effects. Poppy needs to repair as much of the serious damage as she can before they set in, and she must pause everything during them. It could do more damage than not if she continued working through the spasms."

The girl slowly nodded in understanding.

"She cannot tell when an episode is going to begin until it is in full force," McGonagall explained, picking up her student's hand and placing it gently upon Snape's collarbone. "It is up to you to tell her when to stop. Pay attention to what you feel – the spasms will begin with a faint fluttering through the muscles and his heart will beat somewhat erratically. When you notice that, you give warning."

Hermione took in a deep breath, remembering how it had felt the last time when she had grabbed hold of his arm as an episode began. "What about the potion? Didn't that reduce them?"

"It does reduce their strength, yes," the woman responded, "but it brings them on with more rapid succession, and when we need the time to heal him in between…"

"Oh," she sighed. "I didn't know that was how it worked."

Minerva gave a tight smile and nodded. "Will you be alright?"

She gave a muffled sound of affirmation to her Head of House and then fully stepped into the space above Severus's head.

"I will return shortly."

The brunette barely took notice of the woman's leave as she turned her full attention to the unconscious wizard in front of her. Worried that perhaps she may not notice the start of the tremors due to her own racing heartbeat, she touched her other hand to his chest as well and forced herself to focus on what McGonagall had told her. She knew that the woman had meant to calm her down by assuring her that Severus was receiving the best treatment available.

His colorless flesh all but burned beneath her touch, and there was a sheen of sweat covering him. As she stared down at his broken face, she desperately fought the urge to collapse in a fit of sobs against him, but she knew that would only do him further disservice. Glancing up at the mediwitch who was methodically waving her wand about his midsection, Hermione admired how both she and Professor McGonagall could keep such emotional control at the time.

Breathing deeply, the Gryffindor witch told herself that there would be plenty of time to breakdown after Severus was out of danger. Until then, he needed her to remain calm and logical. With a shaky nod, she flexed her hands upon his chest and kept her eyes firmly locked on her mentor, determined to learn anything she could.

For several minutes, the only noise in the room came from the faint sounds of their breathing and the slight rustle of the Healer's robes as she worked. While watching her, Hermione had almost reached the point where she had forgotten that the man beneath her fingertips was dying when she detected a faint ripple. Her gaze suddenly snapped to her hand, and her voice was panicked when she shouted, "Stop!"

Poppy immediately released her spell and stepped back from the man. Frightened that she, too, could harm him, the girl pulled her hands away from his chest.

"What do we do now?" she gasped, watching his shoulders and legs beginning to twitch.

"Wait," the woman shrugged, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, "and hope the tremors don't ruin anything I've just fixed. If you could, dear, keep a hold on his head. With his recent concussion, he could easily sustain major damage."

Without a second's pause, Hermione placed her hands on either side of his skull. As the muscles of his body quickly erupted in full spasms, she swallowed back a sob and silently willed that he come out of it alright. A minute ticked by before his body gradually slowed back to its resting state.

When it had, the nurse quickly cast another scan and then blew out a relieved breath. "Atta boy, Severus. Now, how about we fix those ribs again before they can puncture anything important, hmm?"

The younger witch smiled briefly at the woman's mumblings and quickly returned her hand to Snape's chest. Confident that she would be able to detect tremors with only one hand, she left her other one on his cheek. While she doubted that he would derive any comfort from it, it definitely made her feel better.

"We should have several minutes before the next one hits," Pomfrey stated, glancing at her. "Since he isn't leaking into his abdominal cavity at the moment, it would be good to get another Blood Replenisher in his system. If you could, please?"

Hermione nodded and quickly scampered over to the cabinets.

"And probably an Anti-Swelling, while you're at it. I'm worried about that head of his."

Under Poppy's verbal guidance, the young witch carefully cradled the Slytherin's head into the crook of her arm and administered the suggested potions before she returned to her monitoring duty. Shortly after the second round of convulsions ceased, the door opened and a rather winded Headmaster floated into the room with his deputy on his heels.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked, while Minerva crept behind him to stand beside her student.

"Well, we aren't out of the woods just yet," Madam Pomfrey stated snippily, "but he's stable for the time being."

"Was he lucid at any point?" he queried, glancing at each of the three women.

Hermione noticed how the matron nurse stiffened, but McGonagall was the only one to speak.

"He only managed two words – 'Don't let…' –before he collapsed at the gate. It doesn't appear he's regained consciousness since then."

As Albus nodded, the Healer cleared her throat. "Minerva, could you fetch Hermione a bottle of Skele-Gro? His right ulna and radius are practically pulverized, and it will be far easier to grow them back."

As the Deputy Headmistress moved to do so, Hermione closed her eyes in despair. She completely understood the mediwtich's frustration with the Headmaster, since it seemed he was more concerned with any information that may have escaped his spy than with healing his injuries.

"You are doing exceptionally well, Miss Granger," the old wizard stated calmly.

As she accepted the brown bottle from her Head of House, the girl glanced toward him and somewhat regretted her initial assessment. There was a definite air of sadness in his blue eyes, and she supposed that he must care for Severus in some regard. Exhaling nervously, she measured out the dosage that Poppy told her to use and then gently coaxed it down the wizard's throat.

Remembering Harry's description of the painful sensations accompanying bone regeneration, she bit down on her lip and kept one hand against the side of his face. For a long moment, she gently stroked her thumb across his cheek, grimacing when she saw the skin of his right forearm beginning to ripple.

Without warning, the man lying on the table shifted. A strange cry escaped his lips, and before the girl could react, a strong hand seized upon her wrist and flung it back against her body. "Don't f-f-fucking t-touch me, you bitch!"

Frightened, Hermione clutched her arm to her chest and stepped away from the bed.

"Severus!" Poppy shouted, grabbing onto his left arm and peering into his eyes. "It's alright. She's only here to help you."

His eyes flicked wildly from side to side, and it was evident to everyone present that he was trying to piece everything together in his head. He made motions to sit up, but was prevented from doing so.

"No," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "I haven't finished with you, and you had better not cock anything up. Now, do you remember being summoned?"

His breathing was ragged as gave the slightest of nods.

"Minerva found you at the gates and brought you here," the nurse continued explaining. "It's been slightly more than an hour since we started with your repairs, and we still have a ways to go, do you understand?"

A grimace accompanied a second nod.

"Good. I'm going to need your cooperation," Poppy smiled. "Minerva has already fetched Albus. They're both here right now, and Miss Granger is –"

"No," he gasped.

Fully expecting that reaction, the mediwitch shook her head. "Severus, she is assisting me –"

"No!" His voice was exceptionally strained as he ground out, "Get her out of here."

"Severus, be reasonable," she sighed. "She will not run off gossiping about your condition or your knickers. You know that she's contractually bound to keep your privacy."

Though the witch had commented solely in the context of the apprenticeship and all of the paperwork that had accompanied it, Hermione winced when she saw how the statement affected him.

"GET HER OUT!" he roared, lifting his shoulders from the mattress. His face was set hard in pain when another round of spasms tore through his body. "NOW!"

"Miss Granger –"

"It's alright!" The girl interrupted, holding up her hands. "I'll go."

McGonagall gave her shoulder a tight squeeze. "I can assist you, Poppy."

Knowing full well that every pair of eyes were following her, Hermione kept herself together as she quickly strode out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind her, however, she sank against a wall and folded in on herself. Despite her stinging eyes, she did not allow any tears to actually fall. As scared as she was, she knew that she needed to stay in control. She needed to be strong.

How long she sat there in the little corridor, she did not know, but at some point a warm hand on her shoulder pulled her from her thoughts. Glancing up, she saw her Head of House looking down at her with a sympathetic smile.

"Is he…?"

"He'll be alright," Minerva nodded, extending her hand to help pull the girl to her feet. "Only the more minor mendings left to do, and Poppy can handle that on her own."

"Oh," she murmured, following the professor when she gestured toward the matron nurse's office.

Once they were inside, the Deputy Headmistress slipped her hands beneath the young witch's jaw and placed a kiss on her forehead. "You were magnificent, Hermione. And please do not take what he said to heart. Severus was not in the right mind and likely did not know who he was yelling at."

"I know," the brunette whispered shakily. As she met the woman's gaze, she felt as though a dam suddenly broke inside of her head, and everything she had been feeling for the past number of hours came pouring out of her.

"It's okay," Minerva whispered as she wrapped her arms about the sobbing witch.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," the Gryffindor Head replied, holding her tighter. "We've all been there, and it does help to let it out."

Sagging against the woman, Hermione continued her weeping for several minutes until she finally felt as though she had nothing left in her to weep. When she pulled away, sniffling, McGonagall guided her onto a small sofa that had been transfigured from a chair.

"Why?" the girl asked breathlessly, searching the other witch's face.

Minerva shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know. He and the Headmaster generally do not speak about his summonings unless they are alone."

The young woman dipped her head in understanding and then wiped her nose with her sleeve. "How often does… _this_ happen?"

"I honestly don't know," the Gryffindor Head sighed. "I think it is rare that he returns in such a state – at least I've only assisted a few times – but as for how often he comes back injured… I suppose anyone's guess is as good as mine. I know that he tries to heal himself on his own as much as possible, but even I do not know how many times he seeks out Poppy's help. That is something only she could tell you."

As though she had been called by the mention of her own name, the door was suddenly yanked open by an irate mediwitch.

"Oh, that _man_!" Poppy snapped, dropping into her desk chair with a shake of her head. "The nerve to suggest that _I_ look like _I_ could use a rest, when I know damn well he's going to keep him up and talking far longer than he should."

"Well, it may be that he holds time sensitive information –"

"I know that, Minerva!" the Healer frowned, crossing her arms. "But the point is he doesn't need to treat me like I don't! I do not care for his patronizing display of concern for my welfare. Ugh! Well, Miss Granger, I do apologize for your rather rude introduction into wartime Healing."

"It's alright… not your fault," the girl mumbled, rubbing her hands along her arms. "How is Se—Professor Snape?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed and rubbed her temples. "He'll be alright come Monday – though, undoubtedly in one of his fouler moods. He'll have to stay here through tomorrow, which of course, he'll protest until he passes out – which really shouldn't be long in his current state— but those bones won't be done regrowing until the morning. Besides that, I still have to get that bloody fever down and finish mending a few lacerations, but I think I should wait for tomorrow to deal with those. His body is already severely taxed as it is."

"Oh."

The nurse gave a sharp nod and then reached behind her to open up a small cupboard. There was a clinking of glass as she withdrew a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey and three tumblers. After pouring out a measure of the amber liquid into each glass, she held one out to Minerva and then one to her apprentice.

Hermione stared at the proffered drink and then flicked an uncertain gaze toward her Head of House.

"It's been a trying night, Granger," Poppy smirked, pressing the glass into her hand. "A situation such as this calls for something stronger than tea."

"I certainly won't tell anyone," McGonagall snorted. "You've more than earned it, I'd say."

Hesitantly, the young witch accepted the glass and, after watching the other two for a moment, took a small sip of hers. She coughed in surprise at the sudden burning sensation that followed the liquid down her throat and blushed lightly when her both of her mentors glanced at her with slight amusement.

After a moment, she felt a delightful warmth spreading through her system; it was similar to the calming effects of the tea that McGonagall had given her the day after the binding ceremony, but stronger. When she dared enough, she took another sip, smiling to herself when the booze again produced the burn. As the minutes passed, she felt increasingly relaxed and sank quietly into the sofa cushions.

_Severus is going to be alright. I'm going to be al—_

The sound of a large explosion interrupted their silent tranquility. Sloshing the remainder of her drink down her front, Hermione startled off of the sofa and hurried after the two witches.

"What the hell was that?" Minerva called as they rushed across the main room of the infirmary to the small corridor where Dumbledore and Snape – still in naught but his undershorts – had emerged from the private examination room with their wands drawn.

Though she was disconcerted by the current physical appearance of the Slytherin Head – his right arm hung limply at his side while sizeable bruises and a few cuts still dotted his flesh – Hermione's heart sank even further at the sight of smoke tendrils spilling out of the brewing room at the end of the hall.

"Oh, gods - the potion!" she cried, rushing past each of her professors. Bursting into the room, she let out a groan of frustration. The iron cauldron had split into two halves, and globs of thick, brown sludge were splattered all over the room. The young witch covered her face with both hands and stared at the mess in horror. "Oh, shite."

"Well, the house-elves certainly have their work cut out for them tonight, don't they?" Poppy murmured while glancing about the room.

"I'm so sorry," the girl gasped, running her hands through her hair as she turned toward them. "I completely forgot about it, but I know I put it under stasis, so I don't understand –"

"Miss Granger, it's alright," McGonagall interrupted calmly. "It isn't that big of a deal."

Dumbledore gave her a small smile. "I assure you that you are not the only one in this room who has ever blown up a cauldron."

Snape let out a pained grunt as he leaned his weight against the doorway. "I take it from the color that you had already added the spleens, but not yet the pumpkin seeds when you… were _interrupted_."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly as she took in his quiet statement. Uncertain as to why that should matter, she quickly ran through the instructions in her head. A whimper escaped her lips as she glanced up at him and grimaced. "It wasn't stable. You noted that on the sheet, but I forgot! Oh, my gods – I'm sorry!"

"Well, you'll just have to fix it tomorrow is all," Madame Pomfrey said, patting her on the shoulder. She then fixed her hawklike gaze on the nearly naked Potions Master. "You, young man, will get your indecent, pale arse back in that bed and not rise again until the sun does, do you hear me?"

As if suddenly realizing his current state of undress, Severus grimaced in discomfort and slunk behind the Headmaster as he limped back to the room. There was a slam of the door followed shortly by a muffled shout. "Woman! Where the fucking hell did you put my clothes?"

As Minerva snorted loudly, Poppy muttered under her breath and pushed out of the room. "You'll get clothes when I'm well and ready to give them back to you, and not before then!"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Sunday morning found Hermione unable to concentrate on anything but the absences of the Potions Master and the matron nurse at the Head Table during breakfast. Despite the assurances of the staff members who were present the night before, she still felt painfully embarrassed about her dismal brewing performance. Because of that, she knew well enough that she would not be able to make it until after supper to fix her mistake. So it was that she decided to go back to the infirmary shortly after breakfast and grab a late lunch in the kitchens whenever she was done with the correctly prepared Blood Replenishing potion.

"I had a feeling you'd be back early," Madam Pomfrey chuckled as she stepped out of her office. "The lab is good as new, so don't fret. I've just owled off an order for a new cauldron, but in the meantime, Professor Snape has given permission to use his. The elves just delivered it an hour ago."

"I suppose I had better not blow that one up, too," the girl smirked.

The mediwitch laughed and nodded her head. "Not unless you wish to give him a stroke."

"Absolutely not." Hermione shook her head. "Is he, erm, doing alright? He didn't reinjure anything when the potion exploded, did he?"

"Undoubtedly, it got his heart pumping a bit, but no, it did not cause him any further harm. Except, perhaps, the embarrassment at having stood around in his skivvies in front of a student." Poppy smiled lightly and adjusted her apron. "He's been sleeping surprisingly soundly, so I haven't disturbed him yet, but I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before he tries sneaking out."

Giggling softly, Hermione promised to try not to wake him up on her way past and then set off for the laboratory. She let out a relieved sigh at seeing the brewing space in its original pristine condition and immediately set about to preparing her ingredients. A touch of anxiety returned, however, upon discovering that the hospital's supply of rat spleens was one organ short of the required number.

After a search of the infirmary storeroom yielded no further spleens, the witch looked about for the school nurse only to realize that Madam Pomfrey was in the room with Snape. Not wishing to bother either of them, she decided to check Snape's private storeroom since it was only a few corridors away.

As she crept toward the room, though, she could not help but feel like an errant student. After five and a half years at Hogwarts, the fear of being swooped down upon by the dreaded Potions Master was deeply ingrained within her. Upon reaching the door, the girl had to take in a deep breath to steady her nerves because it felt as though there was a heavy energy flowing through her.

_He isn't going to pop out of nowhere since he's still recovering in the Hospital Wing, you know. Besides, it isn't like you're stealing anything for nefarious purposes. You're brewing hospital stock, and it's only one stupid rat spleen. Just one! He won't kill you for that._

With that thought in mind, Hermione yanked the door open and slipped into the narrow room. In spite of her reasons for being there, she did not wish to spend much more time than necessary in the storeroom. Scanning the neatly organized shelves, she quickly found the desired jar of preserved rat spleens and transferred what she needed into the small container she had brought with her. After returning everything to its rightful place, the witch rushed out of the room and made her way back to the infirmary brewing lab as fast as she could.

A few hours later, when the potion was well on its way, the girl glanced up to see Madam Pomfrey stepping into the room.

"How is everything going?"

"It's going, erm, well," Hermione smiled, shifting slightly. After a moment of feeling as though she were under the nurse's scrutiny, she grimaced and confessed to having borrowed an ingredient from the Potions Master's supplies.

"His _private_ storeroom?" Poppy repeated; an eyebrow raised.

"Well, it's just around the corner practically, and I didn't want to bother you."

"I'm not angry, Miss Granger," she sighed. "Just surprised. I mean, he gave you his password?"

The girl's eyes widened in surprise. "P-password?"

"Yes," the nurse nodded. "Ever since that Polyjuice debacle with Alastor and the nasty Crouch boy, Professor Snape has maintained tight security on his stores. He keeps it quite heavily warded against intruders, you know."

_It _was_ an energy I was feeling. But why did the wards let me in?_ The young witch let out a slow breath and shrugged. "I don't know what to say – the door just opened for me."

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly before shaking her head. "Well, perhaps that's where he was when he was summoned. He may have forgotten to reset them."

"Perhaps," Hermione mumbled, though she knew otherwise.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

After watching the girl go about her work for a while, Poppy Pomfrey stepped back into the corridor and closed the door behind her. She paused there for several minutes as she tried to organize her thoughts into something coherent. Crossing her arms, she glanced back in the direction of the laboratory and then toward the examination room that she had, over time, come to think of as Severus Snape's second bedroom.

Try as she might, the witch could not fully dismiss the notion that had been tugging at her mind overnight. Briefly, she considered letting it be for the moment, but when the exam room door opened to reveal the Slytherin Head clad in a set of hospital-issued pajamas as he peered out toward the main infirmary, she decided otherwise.

"Severus," she snapped.

The wizard let out an irritated huff and rested his head against the door jamb.

"Planning an extravagant escape, were you?" Poppy questioned, moving to stand in front of him. "When you know I have yet to officially release you?"

"For Merlin's sake, woman," he growled, stepping back across the threshold. "You're not a warden. I'm perfectly capable of getting on without you kissing my boo-boos."

"You should only be so lucky," she snorted as she followed him into the room. "Besides, I'm nearly ready to send you on your merry way. There's just one thing left for me to see to."

"Returning my clothes?" Snape suggested, folding his arms against his chest.

Madame Pomfrey shook her head and closed the door. "Really, they were in no condition to be mended this time."

The man sighed and rolled his eyes. "How long am I to go without apparition, then?"

"I'd say at least a week," she smirked, pulling out a stool.

Severus eyed her in confusion when she took a seat. "What else is there to discuss?"

"What _else_, indeed," Poppy stated boldly, leaning against the cabinets. "Shall we begin with the topic of Miss Granger?"

"Miss Granger?"

"Yes," she nodded. "For instance, perhaps we could discuss the nature of your relationship with her."


	57. Unresolved Tensions

**A/N: Phheww... it's been a tough week, and it's only Monday. Anywho, I had this finished a few days ago, but I forced myself to avoid proofing and posting until after my Biochem midterm was over. So here we are, and I'm looking forward to your reviews for a pick-me-up! **

**I have one review to respond to here, so feel free to skip ahead to the story if you aren't interested!**

Jess – since you reviewed as a guest, I can't PM you, so I will have address your comments here. Yes, Christianity has been practiced since the 1st century and is the largest religion in Europe. Does that mean everybody practices it? No – the most recent numbers show that only 59% of people in the UK identify as Christians. (I mean, even where I live, which is generally considered a white/conservative/Christian area, I not only have friends that belong to Catholicism and every Protestant denomination, but also ones who are Muslim, Jewish, Wiccan, Agnnostic, Atheist, Hindi, Buddhist, Baha'i etc.) So, among the Muggleborn/Muggle-raised witches/wizards, likely there are a variety of practiced (or not practiced) religions including but certainly not limited to Christianity.

Now, if you consider how long Wizarding society has been in place – Ollivander's wand shop, for instance, has been in business since 382 B.C. – clearly, they've been around far longer than Christianity. Yes, they celebrate Christmas, but where does Christmas fall? On a pagan holiday. How is it observed? With pagan symbolism. Furthermore, how has Christianity viewed witchcraft and magic throughout its existence? By labeling it as the devil's work and burning suspected practitioners at the stake (or more recently by sending teenaged exorcists armed with holy water and crosses to save demon-possessed Harry Potter fans). I'm guessing that attitude had a big something to do with the split/hostility that occurred between the magical and Muggle world. Somehow I don't see them embracing the religion that persecuted them so violently. And if we look past the negative connotation unfairly bestowed upon the word 'pagan' by our religion, it doesn't actually mean heathen. In fact, the historical/anthropological definition of the word simply means 'pre-Christianity' or 'non-Christian'.

So, in short, I decided to make Hermione's family Christian (somewhat lapsed, in the case of her father) because it's the major religion in England and it's what I know as a practitioner of that religion. Hence the fact that she more frequently says "Oh God." McGonagall, I chose to follow JKR's backstory and kept her father a minister, but she's been in the wizarding world for the majority of her life where "oh gods" could be a common expression (Like 'egads' which is used by Christians and non alike, which literally translates to "oh gods"). But as to your assumption that wizards aren't pagans… I would respectfully disagree. I don't mean to offend anyone or sound too preachy, but that's how I see it. I personally think it would be taking more artistic freedom and a huge leap of faith (couldn't resist, mate) to claim the opposite.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 57**

"Pardon?"

Poppy snorted under her breath and folded her arms to her chest. "You heard me."

Severus raised one eyebrow. "I do not, however, understand what it is you are implying. Miss Granger is a student under my –"

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

"At times," he mumbled grumpily. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he returned the glare as he perched on the edge of the bed and cast a _Muffliato_. "Oh _do_ tell why it is you think otherwise."

A flicker of a smile toyed at her lips. "You complimented her brewing abilities."

"You deserved an accurate depiction of her skills," he countered. "I had no intention of ever letting the comment fall upon her ears and go to her already large head."

The witch leaned forward slightly. "You should have seen it, Severus. Her eyes practically sparkled at hearing your positive assessment."

"Which is why she was never meant to hear it," the man grumbled. "The rest of the staff practically stumbles over each other with their praises, and since I refuse to partake in their tomfoolery, she has been fishing for compliments in my class since she first walked through the door."

"Oh, pish." The nurse rolled her eyes. "Furthermore, she made it quite clear to me that she knows enough to see right past your 'foul git' façade. She said, and I quote, 'I do trust him whole-heartedly.'"

Snape sighed at her smug expression and realized that he should have known the girl would be unable to let the uncertainty of that particular issue stand. "Well, there _have_ been a number of times during which I saved her high-and-mighty arse."

"You've also saved Potter several times," she argued. "I don't see him down here professing to the degree in which he trusts you."

"The only thing that proves is that she is not as incompetent or ungrateful as that little brat is!"

"And here we are again paying her compliments," Poppy smirked.

"For Merlin's sake," he growled. "I merely said she was not as much of an idiot as Potter is."

"Which is a compliment by your standards," the witch explained. "And when I know that you've added her to the wards on your private storeroom –"

"What?"

She rolled her shoulders slightly before replying. "Miss Granger was short an ingredient this morning, and not wishing to inconvenience either of us, went to grab one from your stores. She didn't seem to know that it was password protected, yet still was capable of retrieving the necessary item. Thus, you must have added her to the wards."

His eyes narrowed into a dangerous gaze as he took in the information. "Well, _clearly_, I did it for this very reason! If the infirmary were to be short-stocked on a vital ingredient, then it would need to be borrowed from my stores, and I may be not be available at that particular moment to play delivery boy. As I knew that she was going to take over the majority of the hospital brewing, it only made sense!"

"You merely gave _me_ the password," Madam Pomfrey stated calmly. "You didn't add _me_ to the wards."

"Because I can trust _you_ to keep a bloody secret!" he snapped loudly. "I didn't want to run the risk of her blabbing it to her supply-pilfering friends, now did I?"

"You don't trust her, so you gave her full access?" she murmured in an incredulous tone.

_Fuck_. The multitude of potions coursing through his system was beginning to complicate matters as they seemed to make every argument a bit hazy. "She doesn't _know_ she has full access. I was relying on her fear of me to keep her in check."

"Her fear of you?" she repeated, cocking her head. "Then why did she nearly refer to you by your first name last night? Students don't typically do so with professors they fear."

_Fucking hell, Granger._ He ground his teeth as he shook his head. "Because she's a disrespectful little chit, that's why."

"Thestral shit," the Healer declared. "That girl is the most respectful student I've ever met."

"I wouldn't label nicking ingredients, attacking professors, and trying to start a bloody house-elf revolution as 'respectful'."

She chuckled lightly for a moment. "Yes, well, she's also an individual who was so distracted by her concern for _your_ well-being that she forgot all about the potion she was brewing."

"Because she's careless!" he shouted.

"Not according to your glowing recommendation," she stated softly, holding up one finger.

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "It wasn't _glowing_, and she was likely overwhelmed because _you_ pulled her into something with which she should never have been involved."

"Should never have been involved because of the threat to her emotional well-being, or because of the violation of your privacy?"

"Yes!" he hissed before realizing he had not really answered the question. "To the latter one. As a student, she had _no_ right to even be present let alone assist with my treatment! What if she had cocked something up, hmm? Or do you suddenly think my position isn't dangerous enough?"

"Oh, but she did exceptionally well last night," Poppy grinned. "Surprisingly so, and I was even more surprised to hear that she knew about your After-Cruciatus Potion. You see, _I_ only keep _my_ supply of it here in this room, which she had never entered prior to last night, in this cabinet, which I keep under wards. I have never introduced it into her lessons, and the only time I ever had to administer it to her, she was unconscious. And seeing as you are the inventor, she could not have read about it since it has never been published as no one beyond select Order members is to know it even exists!"

The wizard paused briefly as he sought a plausible explanation that did not involve the girl having seen his personal supply which the nurse knew he kept in his own quarters. "Well, I have been giving her defense lessons this entire year, and at times she has been in my office while I am brewing. She isn't exactly known to _not_ ask questions."

"But _you_ aren't exactly known to give straight answers, are you? You wouldn't have told her if you didn't trust her with the information," she pointed out, "which entirely circumvents your argument as to why you wouldn't simply give her the password to your wards."

"For fuck's sake," he snarled.

"And all of this leads me back to your own behavior last night," the woman smirked. "She _blew up a cauldron_, wasting time and supplies, and yet the only thing you did was offer an explanation as to why it happened. Not only did you _not_ completely lose your temper, but you didn't even offer a single chastisement."

"Perhaps I didn't have the energy to do so," Severus exhaled.

"I would argue that it takes more energy for you to be patient."

"Are you quite finished?" he asked grumpily, folding his arms. "At the very most, you've proven that I've moronically allowed an acquaintanceship with a student."

The meditwitch snorted and shook her head. "You hardly allow yourself to be amicable with anyone, even when you were a student! Beyond Miss Evans and that pretentious twit Malfoy, you weren't close to anyone."

"What's your point?" he sighed.

"My point," she replied slowly, leaning forward, "is that Miss Granger, when asked to assist with something completely out of her element, did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. She stood next to you for nearly an hour and a half, without complaint, monitoring you for tremors and administering your potions. The only time her face showed any inkling of distress was when she knew that you had to be in exceptional pain. And when that happened, she attempted to offer you comfort – not as one would a feared professor or an acquaintance, but as one would comfort someone she cared for. Her only concern was your welfare, and even this morning she was troubled over the fact that she could have caused you additional harm when the potion blew."

Severus wiped his hand with his face and stared at the wall. "Well, if you're concerned that Miss Granger has developed –"

"What? Developed a crush on her Potions Master?" Poppy interrupted in disbelief. "If that were simply the case, the girl would have been visibly affected by seeing you in naught but your knickers, but she wasn't! She wasn't thrown off in the least at your nakedness, which leads me to believe –"

"Oh, _hold_ on one –"

"No, _you_ hold on!" she stated forcefully. "_I_ haven't finished. Even if you… even if she saw you in all your paleness _that_ night, she hardly would have remained as unaffected as she did. She didn't blush; she didn't avert her eyes; she didn't gape in shock or flinch in revulsion. And when you factor in that she had nearly a full serving of firewhiskey in her system –"

"What?" he hissed. "_You_ served _alcohol_ to a student on school grounds?"

The woman narrowed her eyes and held out her pointer finger. "Don't you dare turn this back on me, young man! We're discussing _your_ Hogwarts policy violations with Granger now."

Seeing no real way to back out of the hole he had dug for himself, the Slytherin Head sighed loudly. "Perhaps we ought to send for Albus then."

"Oh, don't you give me that rubbish," she chided grumpily. "I am not going to be fed some rehearsed line by the Headmaster. It was clear to me that whatever is going on between the two of you is known quite well by both him _and_ Minerva. Now, I want to know why it is that neither of them – Minerva, especially – appears to mind that _you_ are sleeping with _my _apprentice!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose while he debated with himself. After a moment, he groaned and dropped his hand back into his lap. "Well, you certainly present a better case than Lupin did."

"Is that the reason for the concussion?" she pressed. When he nodded, the nurse inhaled deeply. "Well, I'm fixing to give you something worse if you don't answer me sufficiently. I'm quite adept at enema charms, I assure you."

The wizard grimaced and stared at his hands for a long moment. "I take it that you've put together that I… was the one who raped her the night I brought her to you."

"Well, I wasn't certain," Poppy mumbled sadly, "Obviously, I knew you had harmed her in some fashion, but I figured it was likely that you were responsible for most of it given your reactions afterward. Minerva assured me that she would keep an eye out for Miss Granger, so I didn't press the matter because I knew damn well that Albus would close ranks."

"He had good reason," Severus replied, taking a deep breath. "That night… the Dark Lord demanded that I… claim the girl in every possible way. He wants her to spy on Potter for him, and to ensure that it occurs, he required that she be bound to me."

"Bound to you?"

He closed his eyes in a grimace as he quickly murmured, "Using a ritual for enslaving concubines or wives from the Dark Ages."

"What?" she cried.

He hung his head as he continued explaining. "If I so choose, I can hear her thoughts. If I give her a direct command, whether I mean to or not, she has to obey or suffer pain similar to the _Cruciatus_. And to ensure that I maintain control of her bloodline, the curse requires that we periodically engage in sexual relations."

The witch stared at him with a horrified expression on her face for several seconds. Swallowing heavily, she tilted her head. "And _this_ has been going on _since_ _August_? For _five_ months that poor girl has been dealing with all of _this_?"

He inhaled and nodded slowly.

"You!" she snapped, pointing at him. "You're the one responsible for her pregnancy concerns!"

"Yes, but –"

"I _knew_ she was lying to me! She was told to lie to me, wasn't she?"

"In a manner of speak –"

"Merlin's sake! The girl was scared out of her wits, needing _my_ help, and I… I bloody well interrogated her, didn't I?"

"You couldn't have kno—"

"I know! Because no one bloody told me!" Pomfrey shouted. When he winced and dropped his head, her voice took on a more demanding tone. "Severus Snape, what _else_ aren't you telling me?"

"The lessons I've been giving her started with Occlumency," the man replied quietly after several seconds, pushing himself into a more upright position, "because the Dark Lord has called for her to be brought to him during the past months… and if my fears are correct, will do so again."

The woman launched out of her chair and began pacing the span of the room. After a moment of processing, she stopped suddenly and looked at him. "Was she ever injured during –"

At seeing his grimace, she stopped mid-sentence and crossed her arms. "_Why_ was she never brought to me?"

"I saw to her wounds."

"_You_ are not a certified Healer!" Poppy shouted, slapping the counter top. After taking in a deep breath, she gestured at him angrily. "If _you_ slink off to your quarters and refuse to seek my help, that's your decision. As much as it pains me, I cannot do anything about it because _you_ are an _adult_ with the freedom to choose, but by gods, Hermione Granger is _still_ a _student_ no matter what it is she is having to do for the Order! As the matron nurse of this school, _she_ is under _my_ care and _I_ should have been the one to provide her treatment! I have _far_ more expertise in this area than you do!"

"_You_ couldn't even be bothered to give her the full dose of the icing potion when I fucking _told_ you to!" Snape returned, standing to his full height. "If _you_ had followed instructions, _she_ wouldn't have been writhing on my floor in agony the next day!"

"Well, if _you_ had _bothered_ to tell me what the hell it was I was supposed to be treating with it, I _would_ have!" She bellowed, stepping closer to him. "I cannot make sound medical decisions when I'm not given all of the necessary information!"

"Which is why _I_ was the one making them!" he yelled. "If I had needed your help I would have come to you, but I didn't and the fewer people who knew about I, the better!"

"So I'm untrustworthy, is that it?"

"No!"

"Then why wasn't I told?" Madam Pomfrey thundered.

"Because he didn't want you to know what horrible things he's capable of."

The two staff members stared at each other in mild confusion before glancing sideways. Hermione stood in the doorway, with one hand on the door knob and an unreadable expression on her face.

"Miss Granger…" Poppy began in a soft voice, eyeing the girl in concern.

The young witch shook her head. "I just thought you might want to consider a silencing charm if you're going to keep shouting at each other. The door isn't exactly soundproof, and I could hear your shouting down the hall."

"But he did, though."

The girl had been in the process of closing the door, but froze briefly upon the nurse's confused reply. Swallowing slowly, she flicked her gaze to Severus and took his pained expression for confirmation.

"Hermione, I –"

"I have to get back to the potion," she stated quickly, interrupting him. "I wouldn't want to _carelessly_ blow up your cauldron, too."

As the door shut behind her, Snape sighed loudly and wiped his face.

"How long do you think…" the Healer began before trailing off.

"Too long," he murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't mean any of the things you said earlier, did you?" Madam Pomfrey asked quietly. When he shook his head, she glanced at the door. "Well, if she heard any of it, she might think you did."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione blinked rapidly as she tossed in the diced horseradish root with more force than required. She had not fully meant to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she had heard raised voices and thought something might be wrong. She had only meant to listen long enough to ascertain whether or not they were just having an argument or if something more serious was occurring. Upon hearing mention of her own name, however, she had found herself practically rooted in place. Though she knew she should not have been eavesdropping, it did not minimize the pain that the overheard comments had inflicted.

_Careless. Untrustworthy. Disrespectful. Dangerous_. Even if they did not represent his true feelings, the insults to her person had all rolled off of his tongue so easily and, when he had so angrily demanded that she get away from him the night before, they cut her deeply. As the last cube of root splashed into the boiling liquid, she wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.

A knock on the door jamb startled her slightly, but she could not bring herself to look at him for more than a few seconds. Pinching her trembling lips together, she immediately averted her gaze to the work table and picked up her cast iron stirring rod.

"Hermione," Severus stated quietly as he stepped across the threshold, "whatever you may have heard… I did not mean what I said about you."

The girl cleared her throat gently before asking, "This time?"

He winced at the implication of her question and nodded. "I am sorry. You were not meant to hear any of that."

"I've figured that out for myself," she muttered as she began another round of cloverleaf stirs.

"Are you upset that I told her?" he asked after a lengthy moment of silence. "If you are, I can –"

"You can what?" Hermione interrupted, finally glancing up at him. "_Obliviate_ her?"

The wizard closed his eyes momentarily. "It's an option."

"No. It isn't," she argued, dropping her eyes back to the cauldron. "And I don't care that she knows. Frankly, I'm relieved that she does because it's far easier than trying to come up with excuses for things all of the time. It was hard enough to lie to her _before_ I started working with her."

"I apologize for not considering that earlier," Snape replied, dipping his head. "And also for not considering whether you would have preferred to have been treated by her instead."

She shook her head and let out a long sigh. "I don't care about that either."

"Well, clearly you care about something."

"I _care_," she slammed her hands down on the table, struggling to keep her tears in check, "that I don't know how long it would have been before you finally saw fit to tell me that you did tell her! Or would I have had to find out from her like I did with Draco?"

His eyebrows rose slightly as he stepped towards her. "Hermione, I –"

"No!" she snapped, pulling away from him. "Don't touch me."

He flinched visibly and then cleared his throat. "I was just… Forgive me, I did not intend to upset you…about this or about Poppy. I tried to convince her otherwise, but I realize that I should have consulted with you before confessing the truth. And I was going to tell you immediately."

When the witch turned her back to him, Severus sighed and picked up the stirring rod to complete the next set of stirs.

Hermione grimaced slightly when she heard him tending to her potion, but did not fully trust herself to give it the proper attention while he remained in the room. Folding her arms across her stomach, she heaved a deep sigh. "Are you ever going to trust me?"

The wizard swallowed in surprise as he dropped the stirring rod back to the table. "What?"

"You agreed to be honest with me," she answered while staring blankly at the wall, "but you haven't told me about the _Muffliato_ or about the fact that I can walk unchecked through your wards. And the fact that you haven't complained about my ability to sneak into your quarters at all this term leads me to believe that you know why."

"I do," he murmured slowly.

"Well," the witch whispered, rubbing her eyes, "don't bother telling me unless you're absolutely certain that I won't run blabbing to my friends."

Severus ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Hermione, I didn't keep it from you because I don't trust you. I kept it from you because… I didn't want to offend you."

"To _offend_ me?" she hissed, spinning around with a narrowed gaze. "Oh, do explain _that_ one, please, because I'm feeling rather bloody _offended_ right now!"

He paused for a brief moment before replying. "The _Muffliato_, the wards… they didn't inhibit you because I was the one who cast them. Similarly, the castle grants you access to my quarters because it detects that you… you also bear my magical signature."

"Considering it's carved into me, I think I realized that already," the girl responded holding up her hands. "Why would that have offended me anymore than it did before? I've come to terms with that –"

"No, _not_ just my signature," he clarified, leaning toward her. "My _magical_ signature. The castle, the wards, the fucking charm – they _all_ recognize it… they all think that you _belong_ to me – like a fucking house-elf! Do you understand _now_ where I might have thought you would have been offended? Do you see _now_ why I didn't think that was something you would want to know?"

Hermione silently stared at him for several seconds. Her shoulders then slumped as her gaze drifted to the floor. "_That's_ why?"

At hearing her small voice, Snape immediately regretted his angered tone. "Yes. I didn't want you to… to ever think of yourself in that manner… especially when you already have to portray it to the Dark Lord."

The witch squeezed her eyes shut and pushed at her forehead with the butt of her hand. A moment later, she shrugged her shoulders and gave a loud sigh. "Yes, I find it offensive, but I still think you should have told me whenever it was you figured it out. The knowledge doesn't really benefit me now, but what if it does later? I mean, what if it had been someone else you had been talking to with the _Muffliato_ and I accidentally revealed that I could hear you? What if it had been Remus, for instance? Or Draco even?"

He raised one eyebrow in contemplation for a moment and then smirked. "You are far too intelligent for your own good."

"And you're far too good at lying for yours," she returned seriously while wiping her eyes again.

"I may agree with you on the general," the wizard murmured as he turned just enough to adjust the height of the flames licking at the base of the cauldron. "However, it did not seem to hold true enough to get us out of _that_ mess."

Her eyes followed his outstretched hand in the direction of the corridor, and she offhandedly wondered how long she had before Madam Pomfrey would rush in to begin fussing over her.

"I've instructed her to wait until you've finished brewing at least," Severus stated. When she glared at him in response, he cleared his throat. "I'm not… _listening_. I just happen to be familiar with Poppy's overbearing nature."

The girl pinched her lips together in understanding and then sank down against her stool. For nearly a minute, she said nothing as she watched him expertly filter out and dispose of the un-dissolved remnants from the potion. A part of her really wanted to remain angry with him for the hurt feelings he had caused, but seeing him standing there in hospital-issued pajamas with his hair slightly unkempt and a pallor more pronounced than usual made it utterly impossible. She could not get the image of his broken body out of her head, and she knew that he should still be resting instead of brewing.

With a sigh, Hermione pushed off of the seat and moved to the workbench. "I should be doing that."

He eyed her appraisingly and then gave a stiff nod. When he handed her the stirring rod, she very carefully took it, making sure not to touch his hand.

"She really cares about you, you know," she mumbled after he had perched on the stool she had just vacated. "Madam Pomfrey."

"I do know," he sighed, leaning one elbow against the counter behind him. "Why do think she gave me the chance to explain myself first before hexing bits off?"

The witch gave a brief smirk but otherwise did not respond.

"While we're on the topic of hexing bits off," Snape murmured a moment later, "Remus has requested to sit in on one of our sessions. I informed him that I would allow it only at your discretion."

A groan escaped her lips as she slouched against the table. Huffing loudly, she rubbed her temples. "Fine. If I say no, he'll just keep trying anyway."

"Mm," he agreed with a nod of his head. "I will tell him at supper, then, to meet us tomorrow evening in the classroom for dueling."

"Fine."

The Slytherin scratched his eyebrow as he watched her maneuver about the work station. "Of course, that does mean that the bond must be dealt with today. I do not imagine we should wait until Tuesday?"

When she widened her eyes in horror and shook her head, he inhaled deeply. "Then it will be today."

"Are you even able to do so?" she asked without turning. "You were barely breathing last night."

He grimaced as he folded his arms to his chest. "I will manage."

"Alright," the girl stated quietly. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat. "Severus? How long do you suppose the curse recognizes a command?"

The wizard narrowed his brow and shook his head. "I have no idea."

"Well, if it does so for any longer than half a day, you had better correct it," she muttered.

"Correct it?" he asked; confusion evident on his face. "What do you mean?"

Hermione glanced over her shoulder. "Last night, you told me not to touch you."

"I did?"

She nodded nervously. "You did, and… well, that would make renewing the bond rather difficult, I think."

"It would," the man replied painfully. "I am sorry. It was not meant to be said. You may… touch me if you like."

"Thank you," the witch mumbled awkwardly, returning her attention to the cauldron. Tense silence reigned over the room for several long minutes before she dared to ask the question that had kept her awake the entire night. "Why did he hurt you?"

Snape's eyes flew open as he had started drifting off a moment before, and he shifted uncomfortably on the stool. "Well, it seems that you and Poppy are not the only ones upset at me for not having been entirely forthcoming with information."

"What information?"

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The final hour of that potion is the most critical. You cannot be distracted."

"Severus, you promised –"

"And I will tell you," the man interrupted, rising from the stool, "when I have the time and energy to do so properly. But that isn't today, nor is it tomorrow as we shall be far too busy dog-sitting. After your flying lesson on Thursday, we will discuss it."

"But—"

"Not open for debate, Granger," he stated sharply, crossing to the doorway. "When you've finished this and finally escaped Poppy's clutches, you may send word and I shall meet you in the Room of Requirement. I do not think I will keep awake long after supper, so it would be best to see to it beforehand."

"Fine," the girl sighed, watching him leave.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Three hours later, Hermione slowly ambled up to the seventh floor while under a Disillusionment charm. As it was only late afternoon, she did not want to run the risk of being stopped by anyone in the corridor since she had put it off long enough already.

She had triple-checked the seal on each of the flasks of the completed Blood-Replenishing Potion, and had spent far more time than necessary making sure that they were perfectly lined up on the shelf in the storeroom. Madam Pomfrey had taken up quite a bit of time herself, casting every extensive detection and diagnosing charm she knew upon the girl. The nurse had given Hermione half a dose of a headache reliever to remove the slight bit of pressure found there and a Pepper-Up Potion to sort out one blocked sinus cavity and the general fatigue that accompanied a night filled with stress and no sleep. The mediwitch had been far fussier than usual, even going so far as to give a quick hug before sending her through the Floo to the kitchens, but the girl offered no complaints, simply because it wasted time. And when the House-elves made her a plate of small sandwiches, she had eaten them at a glacial pace.

Hermione took in a deep breath as she reached the empty corridor outside of the magical room. After sending her mental patronus and hearing a terse reply from the wizard that he was on his way, she began pacing in front of the span of wall. On her third pass, the door appeared, and she wasted no further time in stepping across the threshold.

Her stomach plummeted sharply as she glanced about the space. The provided room was exactly the same as it had been during their early encounters. The same cheery lighting; the same taupe walls; the same clinical feeling. Crossing over to the bed, she realized that it was probably quite fitting of the situation. He wanted her to be more detached from her emotions, and this was where she had best accomplished that feat. With that thought in mind, it was no mystery as to why she had been dreading this moment almost as much as she had for the first few renewals.

With a flick of her wand, she cancelled the Disillusionment charm and then cast aside her school robes. Deciding that she wanted it over with as quickly as possible, she also toed off her shoes and unfastened her jeans. After removing those, she climbed onto the middle of the bed to wait.

Within a few minutes, the door opened just wide enough for the wizard to slip into the space. He paused briefly, eyeing the room in surprise, before shedding his teaching robes and revealing that he was still wearing the dark pajamas instead of his usual attire.

Catching her questioning gaze as he handed her the contraceptive, Severus shrugged his shoulders before sitting down to remove his boots. "If I'm just going to take them off anyway, why waste the energy to change?"

Hermione gave a nod of comprehension and rested her chin against her knees after ingesting the potion. As she watched him disrobe, her eyes were immediately drawn to the multitude of pink lines spanning his torso where skin had been freshly regrown, and she noticed that he appeared to be favoring his right arm. She frowned briefly as she wondered whether he was still feeling pain.

"Hermione?" His fingers lifted up her chin, and her gaze gradually met his.

"Can we… make this quick?" she asked after ducking her head.

"If that is what you would prefer," he stated slowly as he moved into the space beside her. "I cannot technically guarantee it being anything _but_ that."

The girl sighed and nodded. "Well, you're injured, and I'm tired… and I have homework, and you have… Remus."

"All fair points," Snape murmured, adjusting to lie along her side. When she finally stretched out against the bed, he raised his body over hers slightly and gently sought her lips.

Though she opened her mouth to him and returned his kisses, the witch forced herself to keep control of her head. If they needed to keep as much time between their renewals as possible, she knew that she could not let herself enjoy them as thoroughly as she had during the past few months. As horrible as that sounded, however, she did not want to face the humiliation of enduring another day while in constant arousal. She could not fathom what might have happened had Professor McGonagall not recognized that she was in distress and had Severus not had a moment free.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in the midst of kissing down the length of her neck.

"F-fine," Hermione stammered.

"You're exceptionally tense."

The witch swallowed anxiously, trying desperately to fight off the jolts of pleasure that coursed through her system as his left hand massaged her breast through the material of her shirt. "I just… I won't hurt you, will I?"

The wizard snorted softly and shook his head. "Unless you're planning on subjecting me to the _Cruciatus_ at any point during the venture, I shall be relatively fine. I highly doubt I'll have much stamina at the moment, however."

_Thank_ _God_. It was already hard enough to ignore the physical effects he was having on her body. Surely, she would not be able to keep hold of her emotions or logic for any great length of time. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "It's alright. I don't mind."

She sucked in a surprised breath when he pushed up her t-shirt and ran his hand over her stomach. His mouth found its way back to hers, and she ground her pelvis against his leg in the hopes that he would take the message and get on with it. Her shields were dangerously close to slipping as it was, and the sensation of his hands upon her bare breasts would surely tip them to the breaking point.

A shiver rippled through her body when she felt him smirk against her lips, and an odd combination of panic and anticipation settled into her stomach as his fingertips dipped beneath the waistband of her knickers.

"Oh God," she whimpered. "No."

"No?" He stilled immediately.

"Please…just… just you," Hermione fumbled for an explanation. "Now."

Snape narrowed his gaze in confusion, but relented. He quickly rid each of them of their underwear and settled himself within the cradle of her hips.

A loud gasp escaped her mouth as he entered her, and she very nearly gave up on occluding altogether. Somehow, she managed to regain control of herself after a long – and incredibly enjoyable – moment, and forced herself to focus on anything but the pleasure threatening to invade every cell of her body. Her greatest success came when she rested her hands upon his collarbone. His skin was quite warm and covered in perspiration, and as he continued to thrust into her, his muscles were flexing in a manner eerily reminiscent of the onset of the tremors that had consumed him several times during the night. Keeping that firmly placed in her mind, it seemed like hardly any time had passed before the wizard above her gave a strangled cry and released his hot seed deep within her.

Severus was panting heavily and she could feel that his arms were quivering with exertion as he withdrew and collapsed beside her. "Hermione… I'm sorry. You didn't –"

"It's okay," she interrupted quickly, pushing up onto her elbow. "I'm fine… really."

"I could –"

"No, it's fine." The witch slipped away from him and snatched her knickers and jeans up from the floor. "I meant it when I said I wanted it to be over quickly. I have things to do."

The Potions Master bore a tentative expression as he watched her hurriedly redress. "Are you quite certain that you're alright?"

"Yes, fine," Hermione repeated as she fastened the clasp of her school robes. "It's only a short walk to my dormitory, so I'll just shower there."

Blurting out a final word of good-bye, the girl slipped out into the corridor and wrapped her arms about her waist as she quickly strode toward the Fat Lady's portrait. After giving the correct password, she sprinted up the staircase to the Prefect's room to accomplish the only remaining task she had planned for the afternoon – having a good cry in the shower.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Severus?"

The Slytherin Head let out a deep sigh as he eyed Hermione's scowl and then glanced toward the open door. "Through the storeroom!"

"Oh," Remus murmured as he stepped into view. "I didn't realize there was an adjoining classroom."

"Well, I figured you could use that snout of yours to sniff us out," Snape grumbled, pushing off of the desk against which he had been perched. "Close the doors."

As the Defense instructor followed the instruction, the dark-haired wizard turned his attention back toward the girl who was pointedly staring at the floor. Her behavior the evening before had concerned him, but he had not had the energy to deal with it at the time. He was quite certain that Poppy had laced one of the pain relieving potions with a slow-acting sleeping draft since he had passed out rather quickly after Hermione had rather oddly disappeared into the corridor.

He should have known to take one of his own supply before heading up to the Room of Requirement instead of tossing back what she had given him. Because of his shortsightedness, he had barely woken up with enough time to use the shower provided by the Room before rushing down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Thankfully, the Room had also seen fit to deliver a fresh pair of clothing, for he would have rather taken another round of the _Cruciatus_ in lieu of having to teach in his pajamas.

"Hello, Hermione," Lupin smiled gently as he came to stand nearer the pair. "How have you been?"

"Fine," she muttered, adjusting her sleeves.

Severus pinched his lips together as he took in her reaction to the werewolf. She had claimed the same with him numerous times, and he was fairly certain that 'fine' meant anything but the word. Sighing, he rolled his shoulders. "Well, now that that's established, shall we get on with it?"

"Of course," the other man nodded, stepping back to where there was a chair. "I don't mean to hold you up in the least. I'm merely here to observe."

"Shall I have the elves fetch you a bowl of popcorn?" the Potions Master asked, earning a snort from his student. "Or a large bone for you to gnaw on, perhaps?"

Remus chuckled and shook his head. "I'm alright."

"Fantastic," he grumbled, wordlessly casting a Stinging Hex as he turned back to the girl.

"_Protego_!" Hermione gasped, barely managing to block it.

Snape fixed her with a trying look. "Granger, we were working on strengthening your nonverbals, were we not?"

"I know, I know," she mumbled, shifting her stance. "I just wasn't ready for it that time."

"My apologies," he sneered, leaning back against a desk. "I should have waited until you were done daydreaming."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "I wasn't day… dreaming!"

The man smirked when she paused in the middle of her protest to shield against his second attack. "Better."

After the witch successfully blocked half a dozen silent hexes, Severus stood to his full height and shrugged out of his teaching robes. "Shall we see how long you can hold a shield?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Verbally or non?"

"Which do you think?" he returned.

The girl winced at the stupidity of her question. "Nonverbal."

"And why might that be?"

"Because if I can cast strong nonverbals, it'll mean that I am more in tune with my inner magic," she answered, closing her eyes briefly. "And if I have a higher awareness of that, my verbals will subsequently be strengthened as well."

Snape grunted in affirmation and then brandished his wand.

"Which type of shield?"

"I should think a personal _Contego_ would be best to start," he replied. "We can progress to another variation later. Perhaps if we can find a volunteer… you might be able to practice the _Protego Amicus_?"

Remus raised his eyebrows in slight surprise when the other man swept his dark gaze in his direction. Shifting in his seat, he scratched his temple. "The partner-shield? I suppose that I could –"

"Excellent," the Slytherin interrupted. "Shall we begin then?"

Hermione gave a hesitant nod and focused her magic on producing an extended shield about her person. When the first few hexes fizzled harmlessly into the invisible layer of protection, she smiled in satisfaction. The grin slowly faded from her countenance, however, upon noticing that Severus appeared slightly out-of-breath, and it disappeared entirely when another barrage of spells obliterated her shield, allowing one Stinging Hex to catch her on the thigh.

"Ouch!" she hissed, jumping back to rub the irritated spot.

"You lost focus," the wizard snapped. "You're to focus _only_ on defending yourself if you expect to succeed."

"Sorry," she mumbled, producing another wordless _Contego_. This time she kept her attention tuned solely on defeating the numerous spells blasting into her shield. Several minutes seemed to pass as the magic became increasingly more difficult to maintain. Her arms were beginning to shake, and her teeth ground together slightly as she grimaced with exertion. When she finally could not hold it any longer, she released the spell and fell to the floor, narrowly avoiding getting hit in the face with another jet of light.

"Did you mean to do that?" Snape asked, gesturing to where she had collapsed into a heap.

"Not exactly," she panted, pulling herself into a seated position. "I just… completely lost it."

He grunted in response and then conjured a glass, which he subsequently filled with a silent _Aguamenti_. Handing her the glass of water, he tilted his head. "The execution was obviously poor, but appropriate all the same. Clearly, when your shields fail, you still need to respond to the threat. In the future, before you _completely lose it_, you should devote the energy you do have left to physically get out of the way."

"Makes sense," Hermione murmured, between sips of water. "Are we doing that again?"

"Eventually, yes," the wizard smirked. "Tonight, no. It would be a waste of your energy."

Given an understanding nod, she wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jumper. "Now what?"

"Lupin earns his keep," Severus replied, gesturing curtly for the other wizard to stand.

"The partner-shield?" she asked nervously as she picked herself up from the ground.

Her tutor shook his head. "It will tire you faster, so unless you wish for me to hex him outright… No? Pity."

"So… I'm doing what exactly?" Remus queried, stepping forward.

The other wizard cleared his throat and folded his arms to his chest. "You are going to give her the chance to practice dueling against another individual who is accomplished in nonverbal magic."

"What?" the girl gasped.

Snape glanced back at her in mild censure. "The broader your experience is in dueling, the better prepared you will be against an unknown opponent."

Hermione took in deep breath before finally nodding.

**'Plus, it shall give you ample opportunity to hex him yourself,'** he explained mentally as he came to stand behind the werewolf. When the girl giggled under her breath in response to the comment, Remus peered over his shoulder to see his former classmate staring back at him with an innocent expression.

"Yes?" the taller wizard purred.

"Would you… Could you stand over there, perhaps?" the Defense instructor asked quietly.

"Paranoid, are we, Lupin?" With a dangerous smirk on his face and his hands linked behind his back, Severus did as requested. For the next half hour or so, he monitored the exchange between the two Gryffindors, offering advice to Hermione and criticisms to each of them whenever he deemed it necessary. He could tell she was tiring when her blocks became haphazard and the spells she cast began landing farther and farther from the intended target. It was clear that her opponent had noticed as well, for he had gradually eased his assault.

Recognizing that there was little value left in the session, the Slytherin Head was about to call for a ceasefire when the young witch decided to end the match on her own.

"_Expelliarmus_!" she shouted desperately, catching them both off-guard and knocking Remus's wand out of his hand with such force that he had to shake the pain out of his hand.

Catching sight of Snape's amused expression, Hermione blushed and wrinkled her nose. "I know it was cheating, but I can't focus any longer. If I'm to stay awake through Potions tomorrow, I need to be done."

"So be it," he nodded.

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you in class," she replied, snatching up her school robes and heading for the exit.

"You did exceptionally well, Hermione," Remus called after her, receiving an awkward half-smile from the girl before she disappeared. He bent down to collect his wand and then stuck his stinging knuckle into his mouth.

Severus eyed him with disdain. "Are you honestly sucking on your thumb?"

With an embarrassed grimace, the greying man dropped his hand to his side and cleared his throat. "I cannot quite believe the level of skill she's gained. It far exceeds even what I witnessed of her in class."

"Of course it does. You would have been finding tiny pieces of Longbottom if she had not held herself in check."

"I imagine so," Lupin nodded, folding his arms to his chest. "You've done extraordinary work with her, Severus. I cannot deny that."

The Potions Master stared at him in apprehension. "Why do I sense that I will shortly have the urge to hex you?"

The man shifted uncomfortably and scratched his eyebrow. "Well… I couldn't help but notice that when she would lose focus, she was looking in your direction."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Snape growled, throwing on his outer robes. "If you're about to suggest she fancies me, you had better swallow your tongue. As for her wandering eyes, you have our esteemed Deputy Headmistress and matron nurse to thank."

"What do you mean by that?"

The dark-haired wizard sighed as he fastened the article of clothing. "They deemed it wise to have Granger assist in the semi-annual put-the-pieces-of-Severus-back-together-after-the- Dark-Lord-has-a-righteous-shit-fit event that took place Saturday evening."

The werewolf's eyes widened in shock. "Severus, I didn't know. What happened?"

The spy glared at him. "The Dark Lord had a righteous shit-fit over not having been told something, and it took three witches the better part of a night to sort out the damage. That's what happened."

"Yes, but why?"

"You may ask the Headmaster if you're so bloody curious," Snape responded shortly before striding toward the storeroom.

Remus winced as he followed through the narrow space into the Potions classroom. "I'm sorry. It isn't my place to pry. I didn't mean anything by it, and I feel awful that you had to undergo whatever torture he saw fit to implement. You didn't deserve it."

"It has happened before, it will happen again," the Slytherin sighed dismissively. "There is no need for you to get your tail bent out of shape over it."

"Yes, there is!" he protested. "Despite what has happened between us in the past, I do still want to be able to consider you a friend. Why can't you accept that?"

"_Why_?" the dark-robed wizard repeated, turning so sharply on his heel that the other man nearly slammed into his chest. "Perhaps it's because I can count on one hand the people who actually mean it when they say they care about me and still have fingers left over! Or perhaps it's because not half an hour after the last time you were moping on about wanting to be friends you were slamming my head against the bathroom floor! So forgive me if I don't believe you now."

Lupin exhaled slowly and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, whether you believe it or not, I still mean it. I hope that one day you can see what's true and accept it."

Severus watched the other man move toward the door to the corridor and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lupin. You should probably keep a wary eye open if ever you leave the castle."

The Gryffindor gave a sad snort under his breath as he pulled open the door. "What else is new?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Bugger all," Severus grumbled after wearily dropping into his armchair. Kicking off his boots, he rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

Something was wrong with Hermione, and it had to do with him. Her reaction to him had taken a noticeable turn for the worse in the aftermath of his summoning. She had barely met his eyes at any point since then, and she had not been so distant and unresponsive during sex since the night she had first been called by Voldemort.

He could not quite believe that it could all be attributed to her concern over his physical well-being, however. Undoubtedly, seeing him in such a state had affected her, and it was likely that she had naively assumed partial responsibility for the Dark Lord's vitriol.

Despite the tyrant's suggestion that the girl have his bloodied body for mending practice, Snape had had no intention of actually allowing that. When he had finally managed to drag himself back to the castle gates, Minerva had somehow known to be waiting for him. He had tried to tell her not to let Hermione see him, but either she had blatantly disregarded him or he had inadvertently passed out before managing to make it clear. Either way, he had not been thrilled to regain consciousness just to find out they had pressed her into service. Remembering how she had immediately blamed herself for his pre-Christmas bout of 'encouragement' from the Dark Lord, he had assumed she would have done the same again and, as such, wanted her as far from that room as possible.

Groaning softly, he rubbed his face and glanced over at the sofa where the ginger-furred cat was stretched out along the cushions. An odd urge suddenly settled into his mind, and the man stood from his chair, moving to slide onto the end of the couch instead. The creature raised its head long enough to blink sleepily at him before nestling against his thigh.

"It's been a while since you've had the nerve to show your face in here," Snape mumbled, earning himself a throaty purr. "Think I've forgiven you for bringing the wrath of the wolf down on me, have you?"

Throwing open his mouth in a yawn, Crookshanks stretched out all of his limbs and then rested his chin atop the wizard's leg. He continued to purr loudly as the man scratched behind his ears.

The Slytherin sighed, resting his other hand on the armrest of the sofa. As ridiculous as it sounded, he was somewhat relieved to have the furry nuisance back. His quarters had seemed depressingly empty since the events of his birthday had made it necessary to preclude the witch from visiting so frequently.

As the feline rubbed his cheek against Snape's hand, the wizard frowned, recalling that Hermione had said that he had ordered her not to touch him. He did not remember that bit at all – shouting at Poppy to remove the girl from the room, yes, but not anything about Hermione touching him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he focused on the fractured memories of that evening. The mediwitch had mentioned something about the young witch having tried to comfort him, but what that meant, he was not certain. He vaguely recalled the sensation of fingers against his cheek, but that had to have been Bellatrix.

_Hadn't it been?_ He remembered her purposely touching him before unleashing her jealous fury upon his flesh. And she had continued to do so several times over the course of the few hours that she and the Lestrange brothers had been given to turn him into the bloody, broken mass that he had been.

But something still did not quite make sense. He could pull forth flashes of the torture session, followed by Minerva, followed by more pain and Bellatrix's touches, before finally coming to in a hazy fog in the infirmary. No one at Hogwarts had subjected him to further injury, and Minerva certainly would not have allowed the Death Eaters past the gates for a second round. Either his memory was faulty, or he had been hallucinating.

_Oh gods_. Severus leaned forward, covering his face with his hands as everything suddenly clicked into place. The aftershocks, the intrusive healing spells, and the bone regeneration – somehow his addled brain must have attributed the pain associated with those to further torment. It would explain why Poppy had to tell him that Hermione was only there to help. She had been the one stroking his cheek then, as a gesture of comfort, not of humiliation.

And that meant that _she_ had been the one he had yelled at, not Bellatrix. It was _her_ hand he had violently thrown away from him, not Bellatrix's. _She_ was the one he had called a bitch, not Bellatrix.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!" he hissed, lurching out of his seat. He ran his hands through his hair in despair as he paced in front of the fireplace. It was no wonder that Hermione did not want to be alone with him – she was frightened of him.

And she had every right to be.


	58. Under Observation

**A/N: I am so sorry to have left you all hanging for so long! My fellowship application is finally submitted, so fingers crossed!**

**Thanks for all of the reviews, encouragement, and bribery attempts! I hope you find this installment worth the wait. And I think the next one might be even better...**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 58**

Snape rested against the back of his chair, rubbing his fingers over his chin after having given the instruction to the sixth year class to place their brews under stasis and head up to the Great Hall for supper. As the students worked to tidy up their workstations, his gaze subtly drifted past Draco to rest upon the Gryffindors' bench.

Hermione had not met his eye for more than a few seconds over the course of the two-hour practical session. He had considered addressing her mentally to apologize, but every time he was about to do so, he felt as though he were living through a never-ending cycle of déjà vu. How many times could he apologize after hurting her before she stopped believing that he meant it?

_"Hermione, whatever you may have heard… I did not mean what I said about you."_

_"This time?" _

Pressing his lips into a thin line, the Slytherin Head could not wager a guess as to how many times that small exchange had replayed in his head over the past two days. After recalling her reaction when she assumed he had been in her head, he had decided that he would need to find the time to address her in person. He also suspected that words may not be enough.

Thankfully, there was a gesture of good will standing right in front of him, pushing a pair of spectacles up the bridge of its nose. Clearing his throat, Severus leaned forward. "Mr. Potter… a word."

As Malfoy and Zabini jeered quietly on their way out of the classroom, the professor donned the faintest of smirks while watching the Boy Wonder glance around sheepishly. When Hermione paused mid-step and looked up at him with a question clearly written in her expression, he gave a nearly imperceptible nod. She cast one hesitant glance in her friend's direction and shrugged her shoulders before continuing toward the corridor.

When the door clicked shut behind her, the Potions Master folded his arms to his chest and fixed the young Gryffindor with a scrutinizing stare.

Harry shifted nervously at the edge of his workbench and adjusted the strap of his book bag. "Was there something you needed to speak to me about, Professor?"

"An astute observation, Potter," he sneered, rolling his eyes. "Do not suffer the impression that I held you after because I cannot get enough of your dashing appearance."

The boy flushed red and ground his teeth together.

Snape sighed loudly and relaxed his intimidating presence. It would do him no favors with Hermione were he simply to stir up the young wizard's easily-provoked temper. As the angry rant she had given after he had nearly suffocated her flashed through his mind, the man cleared his throat. "I heard that you may have a question for me to answer."

Harry narrowed his eyes and shook his head in confusion. "I don't know what you mean."

"Regarding the essay I've set," the Potions Master clarified grumpily.

Comprehension dawned upon the boy, and he glanced briefly toward the door. When he turned back to face the instructor, his face was tightly set in irritation. "Hermione _told_ you, didn't she?"

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," the older wizard snarled. "Even _I_ will not fail you for seeking assistance."

"And if you think it's a stupid question?" Harry pressed.

Severus snorted under his breath. "Then I will berate you accordingly, but unless you blatantly ignore the advice given, it does not equate an immediate failure."

"Oh," the Gryffindor murmured lamely before scratching the back of his head. "Well, I mean, Hermione sort of helped already and I've been reading one of the books she suggested and taking notes, but I don't really know if I really understand it well enough."

"Do you currently have your notes on your person?" When the boy only nodded and continued to stand still, the professor snapped his fingers impatiently. "Well, let's not take all night, Potter. I, too, would like to make it to the Great Hall before Weasley has eaten everything in sight."

"Oh, sorry," Harry mumbled, digging quickly into his bag to find his notes.

Snape lifted the corner of his mouth into a sneer and accepted the noticeably crumpled notebook as one would a deceased rodent. He then pointed to the corner of his desk. "Grab a stool. Before I assist you, you will tell me what it is you are trying to do and what it is you think you _do_ understand about it."

"Erm," the boy swallowed slightly before nodding. After seating himself at the side of the desk, he cautiously glanced at the man. "Does this mean you're going to pass me again?"

"I do not recall saying that," the Slytherin smirked, slowly turning a page of the messy notebook. "I merely said I would not fail you just for asking a question. You very well might still fail if your essay is as dismal as it usually is."

Harry bristled slightly, but took in a deep breath before finally explaining his idea.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, there's Harry," Neville stated, gesturing toward the front of the Great Hall.

"Finally," Hermione sighed as she set down her fork. A frown set upon her face, however, at noticing the boy's expression and frenzied pace. "Harry, are you alright? I waited for a while, but I really needed to eat."

"I'm fine," he snapped, tossing his bag down under the bench.

"What happened?"

"Snape happened," he grumbled, reaching for a platter of food. "Do I need to say anything else?"

Neville shook his head emphatically as the rest of the students sitting near them mumbled their agreement.

"Perhaps his professional title," Hermione suggested with a hesitant smile.

Harry fixed her with a trying look as he stabbed a chunk of potato with quite a bit of force.

"Sheesh, lay off, Granger," Seamus groaned, shaking his head. "The man's just suffered an extra forty minutes with Professor Git-Face."

The witch glared at him and then at Ron who laughed loudly. Crossing her arms, she flicked her eyes briefly toward the Head Table where Severus had paused mid-bite to glare down a pair of third-year Slytherins who were horsing around at the end of their table. She was not certain why the wizard had found the need to harass Harry when she had merely asked him to do his job as an educator. Unless, of course, her friend had acted like an absolute prat. It definitely was not out of the ordinary for that to have happened.

With a disheartened sigh, the girl picked up her utensil and cast a sad look at the boy across from her. When she caught him smirking back at her, she narrowed her gaze.

"Later," Harry mouthed before clearing his throat and returning to his meal.

Interest piqued, Hermione waited impatiently until he had finished eating and then eagerly followed him out of the Great Hall. When they were away from any of the other students, the wizard cast a _Muffliato_ and turned to face her.

"It was only for show," he explained, gesturing in the direction from which they had just come. "He told me that if I didn't act like he spent the entire time insulting me, people would be suspicious and start asking questions, which wouldn't be good for any of us."

"True," she nodded in understanding. "So he _didn't_ actually spend the whole time insulting you?"

"Oh, he still did plenty of insulting," Harry grinned, ducking his head. "But in addition to that, he actually made an effort to teach me something. He answered all of my questions, and didn't let me leave until I could adequately explain the principle to him."

"Really?" the witch gasped; eyes wide with surprise.

"Yeah," he answered with a vigorous nod. "I don't know what you said to him, but he must have taken it to heart, which is odd because I've never imagined him having a heart."

"A mind-blowing experience for you then?" she laughed. She wanted to be outraged by the statement, but upon considering her earlier perceptions of the man, the witch knew she should not cast stones.

The boy nodded. "In fact, if I didn't know you better, I would've wondered if you _were_ sleeping with him."

"Harry!" she snapped, swatting his arm.

"I said _if_ I didn't know you!" he protested while jumping out of reach of her arm. "I'm just saying I understand where Remus was coming from now. It's just strange, Hermione. You have to admit it."

The girl crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Fine, I admit it. It _is_ strange that living, breathing human being can make friends with another such creature, and be willing to listen to reason."

"I'm not talking about human beings," Harry grinned devilishly and darted up half a flight of stairs before she could strike again. "I'm talking about Snape."

"You are such a prat, Harry James Potter!" she shouted, running after him.

"You love me anyway!" he called back.

Hermione giggled under her breath and shook her head when she caught up to him. "Love you or not, I'm going to make you pay for that on Friday."

"I've been practicing, you know," the wizard replied. "So I welcome the challenge."

"Oh you do, do you?" she smirked as they stepped onto the seventh floor. When no reply came, the girl looked to her friend and then frowned in confusion. "Harry?"

The playful light in the boy's face had suddenly disappeared, and his eyes were staring straight ahead. He gave no indication of having heard his name, and she followed his gaze to where Dean was helping Ginny through the portrait hole into the common room.

"Merlin's sake," she sighed, giving his shoulder a light shove. Her stomach twisted when he suddenly glared at her, but before she could even recoil, the anger had entirely dissipated from his expression. Eyeing him cautiously, she swallowed a large gulp and then cleared her throat. "Are you alright?"

Harry narrowed his eyebrows in confusion and then shrugged. "Fine. Why?"

"Erm, you were…" she paused for a moment before shaking her head. "Never mind. I should head down to the Hospital Wing, but we can talk afterward if you want."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Her stomach twisted with anxiety as she approached the Room of Requirement. She was not afraid of falling like she had during their last flying lesson, but she knew the man well enough to know that he would press on to a more challenging exercise. There was also the added concern that whatever Severus was going to tell her regarding his summoning had to do with her.

"Hello," she stated quietly, closing the door behind her. Her eyes quickly scanned over the cavernous space – the ceilings appeared to have been raised several stories, but there was no sign of a platform.

"Good evening," he returned.

Rubbing her shoulder, she offered him a small smile. "Before we begin, I just wanted to thank you for helping Harry. I know it meant a lot to him."

"Well, he wasn't a complete nightmare," the man sighed. "He has an honorable idea at least."

Hermione grinned and nodded. "And you aren't going to punish him if it does not come up with a valid brew, right?"

He exhaled loudly and folded his arms. "I cannot fault him for failing to solve something that I spent an entire decade failing to solve."

"But what about your _Cruciatus_ potion? I didn't know you invented it, by the way. Isn't that what he's trying to do?"

Snape shook his head. "What I succeeded in developing is merely a treatment for reducing symptoms after the curse has already been… applied. It cannot be used as a prophylactic measure as Potter intends."

"Oh? But couldn't it work like the one you made for me?"

"Not without drastic consequences. Yours I could target to prevent against localized pain, but the _Cruciatus_ is inflicted upon the entire nervous system," he replied. "As far as I can tell, it would be nigh impossible to insulate against the curse without shutting it all down, and that does not exactly seem any more preferable."

"No, I would suppose not," she exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. "Is that why you have all of those Muggle books on neurobiology in your quarters?"

"Yes, I…" The wizard trailed off and then narrowed his eyes at her. "Granger, I know what you're doing."

"Asking questions?"

He raised one eyebrow. "You're trying to delay the inevitable, but we do not have all night."

"Damn," Hermione muttered.

The professor smirked and paced a few steps. "Now, then – do you recall how far I allowed you to fall last week?"

"Twenty feet," she replied, grimacing slightly as she recalled the experience.

With one further step, he turned back towards her and linked his arms behind his back. "And how often do you suppose you will be flying below that height when fleeing an attacker?"

"Not very often?"

He grunted in agreement. "And if you were to fall from, say, a few hundred or thousand feet – how effective would you suppose that method might be?"

The witch swallowed anxiously. "Not very effective?"

"What might be of more use in that instance?" he asked, tilting his head.

She blew out a slow breath as she considered the question.

"When Potter took his swan dive after fraternizing with the dementors, how exactly did he escape shattering every bone in his body?" he pressed.

Hermione pinched her lips together and scratched the side of her head. "Dumbledore cast a spell to slow his descent."

"Which spell?" When only stared at him in uncertainty, he rolled his shoulders. "I guarantee that you demonstrated proficiency in this particular spell during your second year Charms examination."

After a second's thought, her eyes widened slightly. "_Arresto_ _momentum_?"

"Indeed."

"I can use that to slow my _own_ momentum?" she queried. "Not just an object's?"

Severus tapped his head with his pointer finger. "If you visualize it and keep focus, you could save a dozen people from a fall."

A slow smile crossed her face as she stared at him. "That would be brilliant."

"It would be," he agreed, "provided you can manage it. Before you attempt it on anything living, however, I would like to see for myself that you are competent in the basic implementation of the spell."

Thirty minutes later, after watching her successfully guide a grand piano to a safe landing, Severus cleared his throat and pushed away from the pillar against which he had been leaning. "Enough. We move on now."

The proud look that had been on the girl's face quickly vanished as she watched him produce a broom. He then dropped it to the ground in front of her and eyed her expectantly. "The second rule in flying?"

"Commanding your broom?" she sighed. When he dipped his head and gestured for her to continue, the witch took in a deep breath and held out a shaky hand. "Up."

Snape pinched his lips together to keep from laughing when the broom simply rolled over.

"See?" she stated quietly. "I've always been pants at this. I can never get it on the first try."

"I do see," he muttered. "I assume that has to do with the fact that you're doing it wrong."

Hermione quickly donned a glare. "Oh please – _do_ enlighten me as to what the correct method of saying the word 'Up' is."

"As it appears no one else managed to do so, I suppose I shall have to," he quipped, folding his arms to his chest. "What you need to bear in mind is that you are not _talking_ to the broom. You are not _asking_ the broom. You are not _pleading_ with the broom. You are _commanding_ the broom. You have to have _intent_. Wielding strong magic of any sort requires two things above all else: intent and focus. Flying is no different."

The girl sucked in a slow breath as she felt a stirring within her chest. She could not explain why exactly, but she had begun to realize lately that there was something undeniably attractive about him during his private lectures. She had always recognized that he had an impressive presence, but now she found it incredibly… stimulating.

As he moved towards her, she slammed her eyelids shut and forced any inappropriate thoughts to the recesses of her mind. It would not do to get distracted.

Severus froze immediately upon noticing her reaction. Mistaking it for one of fear, he grimaced and took one step backward. His tone was softer when she opened her eyes again. "Hermione –"

"Intent and focus," she whispered, interrupting his attempt at an apology. _Intent and focus. Intent and focus. Come on, Granger – you've conquered Occlumency and Apparition. You've lied to the Dark Lord's face. You can manage flight._

The man scrutinized her features and relaxed at seeing she had merely been concentrating and that her fear was directed more toward the broomstick than his person. After watching her stare at the instrument for several seconds, he began pacing methodically. As he moved behind her, he leaned over her shoulder and spoke softly. "It's just a broom, Granger. It does not mean you any harm. It is not capable of thought. It's made of wood and straw. It is _nothing_ compared to you. You could sweep the floor with it."

Hermione laughed at the double entendre and glanced up at him. When he only raised an eyebrow before resuming his steps, she smirked to herself and then returned her attention to the task at hand. With a sudden rush of confidence, she extended a steady hand. "Up."

The broom immediately slammed into her hand at the command.

"It worked!" she cried. Her eyes were wide with excitement as she raised her gaze. When he silently nodded and gestured to continue, she sobered her expression and mounted her broomstick.

"Straight up," he instructed.

Taking in a quick breath, she kicked off and began rising. "How far?"

"Higher."

Upon glancing down and surmising that she had to be nearly thirty feet from the ground, she felt a stab of panic. "Can I stop now?"

"Higher."

"You're not even looking!" she protested.

With a roll of his eyes, he glanced up at her. "Higher."

"Oh god," she whimpered, forcing herself to keep ascending.

"Are your eyes open?" Severus called.

"Y-yes," she stammered.

"Liar."

Grimacing, the witch opened her eyes and immediately regretted it. The broom began to wobble as soon as she realized that the ground was twice as far away as it had been a moment prior.

"You have to keep focus in order to maintain control!" he shouted to her.

"Intent and focus, intent and focus," she repeated under her breath. Eventually, it steadied and she was rising smoothly.

"Better?" When she replied in the affirmative, he waited a few seconds longer before withdrawing his wand. "You may stop now."

"Oh, thank god," she sighed.

"Ready?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Ready for wha-AHHH!"

A high-pitched scream escaped her when the broom suddenly vanished beneath her, and she plummeted quickly toward the ground.

"_Arresto momentum_!" Snape shouted when it became clear that she was not going to do it herself. When she came to a gentle stop upon the cushioned floor, he sighed dramatically. "You do realize that the point of this exercise is not to test _my_ ability with the spell, yes?"

The girl forced her eyes open and all but hugged the ground. When she finally realized what he had said, she rolled onto her bottom and stared at him in disbelief. "You could have given me some warning, you arsehole!"

"I gave you ample warning last week," he argued. "Time is not something we are guaranteed. You need to learn to react in the moment. Now, we're going to do it again."

"Fuck!" she hissed, collapsing back against the floor and covering her face with both hands.

"Granger—"

"Just give me a bloody minute!" she snapped. "Or I'm liable to have a sodding heart attack."

**XxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I think that's enough for this evening," Severus grunted as she hit the ground with a thump and a squeak.

Groaning, Hermione laid on the floor for a long moment before peeking up at him. "You couldn't have assisted me on that one?"

"And distort your perception of your progress?" He tilted his head. "You very nearly had it that time. A hundred foot fall is generally lethal, and yet I would wager you have nothing more than a few bruises."

Muttering bitterly under her breath, the witch pushed herself into a seated position. She proceeded to cast one of the diagnostic charms she had just learned, and when it came back clean, she exhaled loudly. "Now what?"

He stepped forward and held out his hand. As he pulled her to her feet, he gestured to a pair of armchairs. "Now we talk."

"Okay," she murmured, knowing she was just as nervous about hearing what he had to tell her as she had been sitting on a broom ten stories in the air. When she reached the nearest seat, she swallowed hesitantly at spotting the pensieve that sat in between them. "We're viewing memories?"

"You wished for complete honesty," he stated, sinking into the other chair. "I figured this would be the easiest method."

"I see," she whispered, gripping the armrest tightly.

Severus leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Before that, however, I need to apologize. That night, when I… shouted at you, I did not mean… I was not aware of my surroundings."

"I know," she replied.

"I did not realize that you were the one with your hand on me," he explained with a grimace. "I thought it was Bellatrix."

Her stomach clenched at the thought of the dark witch touching him. "Bellatrix?"

Grimacing, he nodded. "What I said was directed at her, not at you. I am truly sorry that I frightened you."

"It's alright, Severus." She gave him a strained smile. "I know how much pain you had to be in at the time, and I could see that you were disoriented. Plus, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey told me the same thing."

"And plied you with alcohol, I hear," he smirked.

A slight flush graced her cheeks, and she ducked her head. "Well, I spilled half of it when the cauldron blew."

"Holding your liquor is something you'll have to learn on your own," he returned. "_That_ is something I shall not teach you.

Hermione giggled softly and then glanced uncertainly toward the Pensieve. "Am I to view them on my own, or are you accompanying me?"

"Whichever you prefer," he responded, rising from his chair.

While watching him extract the silver thread from his temple, she debated with herself. As he deposited it into the bowl, she stepped beside him and cleared her throat. "Will you come with me?"

He nodded, and a moment later they were both falling into the ether of his memory.

The girl's heart was beating wildly as they arrived in the ballroom – firstly, due to the free fall, but it only increased as Voldemort hissed his greeting. She physically flinched when the tyrant ripped into the memory-Snape's mind, and she was gripped by the irrational fear that the man currently standing beside her could again suffer that fate. Instinctually, she grabbed onto his robes and positioned her body so that she was partially ahead of him.

Severus tore his eyes away from his own likeness and focused his attention solely on her. He had no need to examine the memory for himself, and if Hermione appeared too affected by the incident, he would remove them immediately.

"Where are we?" she whispered, wincing as the memory-Snape collapsed onto his knees.

"Malfoy Manor," he replied stiffly before the evil wizard found his discovery.

_"You allowed her to withdraw from class!" _Voldemort shouted in the man's face_. "From Defense! Where the Potter brat fully expects her to be! You were not to arouse suspicion!"_

The witch gasped and felt her lower lip tremble at having her greatest fear proven true. She _was_ the reason he had been punished.

Noticing that she appeared ready to cry, Severus took in a deep breath and touched her shoulder. "It was my decision, Hermione. I knew what the consequences would be."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whimpered, glancing up at him with moist eyes. "I would have just dealt with Remus if I had known."

"I have given you enough to deal with," he argued quietly. "And frankly, learning how to heal is a better use of your time than putting up with the wolf."

Though Hermione could not fully accept that as reason enough, she was distracted from protesting further by the Dark Lord latching onto one of her own memories which Severus had falsified. After watching for a long moment, she tightened her gaze. "_This_ is what you did with them? You used them to sell out Remus?"

Snape sighed uncomfortably and closed his eyes. "I had no other option, Hermione. The Dark Lord needed a believable reason, and the truth would have seen you summoned for punishment alongside me."

Her anger diminished quickly upon seeing the memory-Severus land harshly onto his elbows and stutter his response to the Dark Lord's question.

_"Oh, you will train her!"_

The witch bit down on her lip and unconsciously grabbed hold of the man's hand while Voldemort seized his likeness's face.

_"You will turn that little mudblood whore of yours into a formidable opponent that Potter will never see coming. The boy surrounds himself with love – the fool! – and when the time comes, your little pet is going to tear out his heart right before I stop its infuriating beating! Do you understand?"_

"Oh, god," she grimaced.

_"Yes, my Lord."_

_"And if that dog ever paws at the girl again, you will alert me immediately, and we will PUT HIM DOWN!"_

Hermione pressed closer to her professor as she watched the Dark Lord pace dangerously. Her heart dropped into her stomach as soon as she saw the voracious gleam in the tyrant's red eyes.

_"Bellatrix."_

"No," the girl whimpered as the insane woman appeared. She blanched when she witnessed Bellatrix running her fingers against his cheek in a manner eerily similar to the way she had done so in the infirmary. It was no wonder he had reacted so badly to the action.

_"It seems your information was valid."_

"_Her_ information?" she mouthed in surprise.

_"Sevvy's itty, bitty slut-slut wants –"_

Without warning, the scene vanished and the pair were deposited roughly back into the present time.

"You don't need to see the rest," he explained when she glanced up at him. "I assure you there wasn't anything important."

The witch nodded slowly and dropped her gaze to where their hands were still joined. He had made no effort to draw away from her, and for that she was entirely grateful. At present, it was the only thing keeping her from launching herself at him, throwing her arms around his torso and burying her face into his chest.

"And despite what it sounded like, I do not believe Lupin to be in any more danger than he has been for some time," he mumbled. "Fenrir Greyback, the Dark Lord's pet wolf, has held a particular obsession for him since he bit him as a child, and courtesy of the late Peter Pettigrew, the Dark Lord is acutely aware of how close he is to Potter."

"Right," Hermione sighed, blinking quickly and dropping her chin in embarrassment. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It just felt so wrong to see it portrayed that way, and yet… oddly plausible at the same time, and it bothered me."

The Slytherin grunted in understanding and shrugged. "He maintains that he is only interested in your well-being because you're Potter's friend and because he supposedly sees a bit of himself in you."

"Well, it had better not be because he _wants_ to see a bit of himself _in_ me," she quipped with a small smirk.

"Indeed," Severus purred. "You have far too many suitors as it is."

The girl gave half a smile and then pulled away from him, crossing her arms to her chest. "So Bellatrix was the one who told him?"

He nodded in response and let his hand drop to his side. "She is also the one who informed the Dark Lord that you were not on the train with Potter at the holidays."

"How did she – Draco." Hermione spun back to look at him. "She's using Draco, isn't she?"

"Yes." When she collapsed into her chair, he followed suit. "She is looking for any means of removing me from the Dark Lord's favor."

"Do you think she told him to confront me?" she asked quietly. "Do you think it's some sort of trap?"

Snape shook his head. "No. I do not think he is eager to be her informant, and he would not wish to share with her that he was questioning the Dark Lord in any way. No, whatever he is doing seeking you out has nothing to do with her. She would appear far more self-satisfied had she set this in motion. Frankly, I don't think she has the mental capabilities to plan well for the long-term since her stint in Azkaban."

"So why _is_ he seeking me out, then?" the girl queried, pulling her feet onto the chair.

The man steepled his fingers as he contemplated her question. "Whatever it is that the Dark Lord has assigned him has him panicking. He has no one really to turn to – he has been forbidden from seeking his father's counsel, and I think he is intelligent enough to know not to trust his dear Aunt Bella to have his best interests at heart. But you… you're the unknown factor. You've inserted yourself into his world, and he needs to know your motivation for doing so. He needs to figure out whether you're more of a threat or more of an ally."

"It's been nearly a fortnight since I gave him the note," the witch mumbled, fiddling with her ring.

He nodded slowly. "I've noticed him watching you. If he is in enough trouble, he will be pressured to make his determination relatively quickly. I think he will decide soon whether it is worth it to pursue your intentions further."

"And then what?"

Severus leaned against the arm rest of his chair. "Then, if he is curious enough, he will approach you, and you will have to prove to him that you can be trusted."

He paused a moment and then straightened in his seat. "And whatever you do, you will not tell him that his father asked me to lend him assistance."

"What?"

"Do not, under any circumstances, mention his father," he repeated. "Is that clear?"

Hermione cleared her throat and nodded.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The halls were unnervingly silent as the young Gryffindor witch left the infirmary on Saturday night. A charm gone wrong amongst the Ravenclaw first-years had delayed the start of her brewing, causing her to stay more than an hour past curfew. She was so tired that she could hardly keep her eyes open, but at least she knew now how to rid someone of an unexpected tail should the need ever present itself in the future.

_And when one interacts with the likes of Fred and George Weasley, it undoubtedly will come in handy._

Stifling a yawn, Hermione rounded a corner on her way towards a set of staircases. She had made it halfway down the corridor when the sensation of being watched became suddenly overwhelming. Without giving any indication that she was aware of another's presence, she slowly withdrew her wand and then whirled about in a defensive stance.

At first she saw nothing in the shadows. She was just about to move on when she noticed the nearly imperceptible shimmer of a Disillusionment charm. Silently she cast a _Finite Incantatem_ and sucked in a nervous breath when the moonlight reflected off of white-blonde hair.

"Malfoy," she frowned, keeping her wand trained upon him.

"Granger." The wizard seemed perfectly unaffected as he leaned against a doorway. "Busy?"

The girl took a step towards him when he gestured to the empty classroom, but eyed him warily. "I'm not going to need a visit to the chiropractor this time, am I?"

"What the fuck are you babbling on about?" Draco grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"It's a Mug—never mind, nothing," she sighed, crossing the threshold. Upon reaching the center of the room, she spun back in time to see him close the door and cast a _Muffliato_. "What is it you want, Malfoy?"

An entire minute stretched in silence while the Slytherin did nothing beyond stare at her.

Hermione blew out a frustrated breath. "If you're not going to spit it out, I have somewhere else to be. I don't need to waste my time with you."

When she began moving toward the door, he finally spoke. "I need to know why."

"Why what?"

Malfoy took several steps towards her. "Why you're bothering! Why you bought me a fucking Christmas present! Why you keep watching me!"

"Because he asked me to," the witch replied, folding her arms.

His eyes pinched practically into slits. "So you _are_ spying on me for the Dark Lord!"

"No!" Hermione snapped. "Not _him_!"

"Then who?"

She took in a slow breath and raised her chin. "Professor Snape."

The blonde jerked away in surprise and ran an uncertain hand through his hair. "Why does _he_ care?"

"Because he does!" the witch hissed, throwing one hand into the air. "Isn't that enough?"

A deep scowl settled onto Draco's face, and he crossed his arms. "Typical Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked.

He shook his head as he sneered. "Trust blindly and without question, right? Looks like it's worked out swimmingly well for you, hasn't it?"

Fire flared in her cheeks as she turned away from him.

"You _never_ trust someone without knowing their motivations!" the boy shouted.

Hermione glared at the wall for several seconds and tapped her foot in agitation. "Then what do you want from me?"

A moment passed quietly as he drew himself up to his full height and dropped his voice. "I want to see it."

"See _what_?" she barked, glancing back at him.

"Your mark." Malfoy tilted his head as he peered at her. "If you're working for him, he has some way of controlling you. And since Aunt Bella said that Snape already murdered your parents, that can't be what he's holding over _your_ head."

The girl swallowed hesitantly as she considered his request. She really had no desire to do so, but Severus had stressed several times that she would need to bend to some of his demands in order to earn some measure of the boy's trust. Inhaling loudly, she unfastened her school robes. She could feel his curious gaze locked onto her form as she tossed the robes to the side and then lifted the edge of her shirt as she turned her back towards him.

The wizard took in an audible breath as he slowly approached her. "This isn't the Dark Lord's mark."

"No, it isn't," she shook her head. She gasped slightly at feeling fingertips at the base of her spine. "He may have instructed me to do something, but Professor Snape is the one I'm bound to serve."

Draco ran his fingers over the letters of the scar and stared at it in wonder. "And you have to do whatever he tells you?"

The witch bit her lip at the odd prickling feeling that his fingers were eliciting and then nodded.

"And if you don't?" he pressed.

"It burns," she replied.

Returning his hand to his side, the boy contemplated the new information for a few seconds. A determined expression appeared on his face as he spoke. "Prove it."

"What?" Hermione cried, dropping her shirt as she spun to face him.

"You expect me to believe your story," he snarled. "Prove it, or fuck off."

Her eyes widened in horrified disbelief. "You want me to disobey him just to –"

"You're wasting my time, Granger," he interrupted with a growl before stepping away from her.

Panic set in as she realized he was leaving. He wanted her to violate a direct command from Severus, but there was not anything she could do with jeopardizing anything important. He was not going to believe her, and –

"Wait," she whispered, realizing that Snape had given her exactly what she needed. Raising her eyes to the retreating boy, she cleared her throat. "Fine! You want proof?"

Draco pivoted on one foot and turned to face her with a raised brow. "I'm waiting, Granger."

Her face was set in a grimace as she responded. "Professor Snape wants to help you because your father asked him to do it!"

Immediately, a searing pain flared across her lower back, causing her to cry out in pain. The intensity of the burn was startling – as if deliberately disobeying a command was to be punished with greater force than an accidental violation. Her knees buckled after a moment, and she grit her teeth upon collapsing upon all fours. "He commanded… me… n-not to t-tell you!"

Surprise was evident upon the pureblood's face as he stepped towards her. Pushing up the edge of her shirt, he stared down at the scar, which had become angrily red in color. "It works."

"Of course it fucking works!" she screeched. Tears were automatically spilling out of her eyes as she pulled together enough focus to send a mental Patronus.

"It hurts that bad?" Draco queried.

"Does your arm hurt?" she hissed, glancing over her shoulder at him.

The boy swallowed fearfully and moved away from her. "What happens then?"

Hermione winced and pressed her forehead to the floor. "I go to h-him to… treat it or else it… continues to get worse until my entire body shuts down, and I die."

"H-how long does that take?" he stammered.

"Why?" she sneered. "You want to watch it happen?"

"No!" the wizard cried; his expression clearly one of panic.

The girl took in a steadying breath as she received word from Severus. "A few days, maybe? I don't really know how long after disobeying."

His coloring far paler than usual; Malfoy edged nervously toward the door. "Sh-should I go get him?"

She shook her head slowly. "He's already on his way."

"Oh," he gasped. "You… You're n-not –"

"I'm not going to die in the next five minutes, if that's what you're asking," she stated bitterly. When the boy disappeared into the corridor a few seconds later, the witch groaned and pulled herself into an even tighter ball.

**'One minute, Hermione. I'm nearly there.'**

"Okay," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain. The seconds ticking by felt like hours as the magic burned through her nerve fibers, but finally she heard the wizard's arrival.

Snape closed the door and quickly warded it before moving quickly to her side. "Hermione, I am sorry –"

"It's alright, S-Severus-s."

He shook his head as he uncapped the jar in his hands. After pushing her shirt entirely out of the way, he began applying a liberal amount of the orange salve to her spine. "You need to listen to me. This is my fault –"

"I understand." She took in a deeper breath as the pain began to recede. "You knew he would demand a demonstration, so you purposely gave me something to use."

"You figured it out?" he asked, wiping the excess salve on his robes before tugging her shirt back in place.

Hermione let out a soft grunt and panted as she rested her head against his leg. "Not right away, because I didn't get why he shouldn't know his father was trying to help him. But then, when he was walking away, I realized that you set it up so I could kill two birds with one stone."

The wizard snorted in disbelief and smoothed his hand over the back of her head. "For a Gryffindor, you manage to think an awful lot like a Slytherin. I am only sorry you had to suffer for it."

Propping herself up, the girl moved closer to him, winding up half in his lap. "For a Slytherin, you manage to care an awful lot like a Hufflepuff."

A quiet chuckle escaped him as he wrapped an arm about her waist. "I wanted to give you warning, but I didn't know how the bond would react if you knew."

"Better safe than sorry," she nodded against his chest. "I just wasn't expecting it to hurt so bloody much."

"I am sorry," he whispered, touching his lips against the top of her head.

Hermione closed her eyes as she continued working to catch her breath. After a few minutes, she cleared her throat. "Do you think it worked?"

Severus tightened his hold on her as he stared at the door. "I guess we shall see."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, Won-won," Lavender cooed loudly, perching on her boyfriend's lap as he sat near the Gryffindor common room fireplace. "I can't believe you weren't there. It's going to be dreadfully boring learning to Apparate without you."

Across the room, Harry rolled his eyes and let out a disgusted groan. "Don't let it bother you, Hermione."

"Easy for you to say," the brunette witch grumbled, looking up from her textbook. "You haven't felt him glaring daggers into your back the entire weekend."

The boy sighed and gave a small nod. "I tried explaining to him why it's a good thing he's not taking lessons, but it was of no use."

"I wouldn't imagine it would go very well, seeing as you _are_ taking them," she pointed out.

"True." He picked up his quill and shrugged. "Ron will calm down eventually."

Hermione snorted under her breath and returned to her studies. Several dozen pages later, she became distracted in the midst of her reading upon realizing that she had not heard the quill scratching for several minutes. Raising her gaze to her friend, she found him staring blankly past her shoulder.

"What is it, Harry?" When no response met her, she narrowed her eyes and looked behind her. Her lip curled in disgust at seeing that Ron and Lavender were presently engaged in another bout of snogging. "Well at least he isn't glaring, right?"

As she shifted in her seat again, the witch noticed that her younger roommate was sleeping with her head on Dean's shoulder as they sat together on the sofa. A wave of jealousy washed over her as she thought about Severus cradling her to his chest for nearly an hour the night before and how she had wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night in the same manner. He, however, had picked them both up from the floor before she had a chance to fall asleep and had escorted her up to the seventh floor.

Blowing out a long breath, she realized that Dean was not actually reading the book he was holding, but was instead glaring in the direction of the table she was sharing with Harry. His expression was somewhat pinched, and she noticed that his hand was splayed rather possessively atop Ginny's hip.

Hermione narrowed her own eyes as she glanced back at her best friend, who was still staring. Realizing that he had been watching Dean and Ginny, not the atrocity that was Ron and Lavender, she scowled and kicked his shin beneath the table.

Pain flickered across his features, and his green eyes shifted to her. "What was that for?"

"You're staring at them," she whispered.

Harry's face twisted in confusion. "Staring at who?"

"Ginny and Dean."

Raising his brow, the boy glanced back in that direction and noticed Dean glaring back at him. His cheeks immediately flushed, and he dropped his gaze to the table. "I didn't mean to. I think I just got lost in thought. I didn't realize I was staring at them."

"Ah," the witch murmured, frowning at her book. "Well, it was still a bit creepy."

Harry grimaced and rubbed the back of his head. "Creepier than realizing you can't see Won-won's or Lavvy-poo's hands anymore?"

"Ugh!" she groaned, covering her eyes with one hand. "_Don't_ tell me anything else!"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

While sipping his breakfast tea, Severus found his eyes actively seeking out the Gryffindor witch. He relaxed slightly upon seeing her chatting amiably with a few of her Housemates. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had had to send her back to her tower on Saturday night, but it had needed to be done. She had needed to sleep, and he had needed to barricade himself in his quarters with a bottle of firewhiskey and his guilt at having caused her physical pain in order to draw in Draco.

Casting a glance in the direction of Slytherin table, he spotted the Malfoy heir silently staring at his plate. With a sigh, the man set down his tea cup and leaned back in his chair. _That little shit better be worth it._

"Good morning, Severus!" Remus smiled upon taking his seat.

The dark-haired wizard glared up and crossed his arms. "Is it?"

The wolf sighed as he pulled forth the nearest platter of sausages. Snape watched him snag half a dozen of them before losing interest and turning his attention back to the student body. On several occasions during the next twenty minutes, he could feel the other man's eyes on him. When he could not take it any longer, he let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, spit it out, Lupin, before you piddle on the floor."

"Well, I was just…" Remus glanced out toward the Gryffindor table and then rested his forearms atop the table. "Do you think I might be able to sit in on your lesson again?"

The Potions Master snorted and tiredly wiped his face. As much as it pained him to admit it, having Lupin as a witness during their private lesson was probably a good thing. He would be less likely to dwell on dangerous thoughts – like how much he found he missed waking up to find a warm witch snuggled up against him – if a third party were present.

"If you must," he finally grumbled.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Good evening, Hermione."

The witch let out a soft sigh at finding the only remaining Marauder perched on a desk in the empty Potions classroom. She had strongly hoped that the man would have had his curiosity sated last week and would rather have spent the night in his quarters regaining his energy after Friday night's transformation. She much preferred it when there was no intrusion upon her private lessons. Severus was far more open and agreeable when they were alone.

"Hello, sir," she replied, dropping her school robes onto a chair.

"Granger," Severus acknowledged, folding his arms. "As you can see, we once again are blessed with an observer."

"Is that alright with you?" Remus asked.

_Not really_. Hermione forced a brief smile onto her face and shrugged her shoulders. "It's fine."

"Why do you suppose that the preferred Shield Charm of the Order and Aurory alike is the _Protego_?" the Slytherin questioned, perching against a table.

The girl quirked her lips as she mentally ran through her previous readings on shielding. "Because it lends itself the easiest to mobility?"

"And why is that?"

"Because it's temporary, quick, and requires less energy," she explained. "It's more efficient at times to reapply a particular charm than to maintain one long term."

Snape nodded. "The drawbacks?"

"Personal shields are size limited," she replied. "Unless you use the _Protego Horribilis, Maxima_, or _Totalum_, a _Protego_ is limited to shielding only an individual."

"And the _Protego Amicus_?"

"Has the added drawback that you are sacrificing your own protection to shield another."

Severus rubbed his chin. "Why might that be preferable to using an extended _Contego_ that could shield you both?"

The witch frowned as she considered the question. When she shook her head in uncertainty, the man immediately turned his expectant gaze to the werewolf.

Remus startled slightly at being called on to answer. "Well, I guess… I would assume you are referring to the distance of transfer."

"Which means?"

"Which means that the partner-shield can be cast from a greater distance," Hermione surmised before the greying wizard could speak.

"Precisely," the Slytherin stated, pushing off of the desk. He gestured to the witch to move into the center of the room, and then spun gracefully on his heel, disarming his colleague with a silent _Expelliarmus_. As the werewolf launched to his feet in surprise, Severus brandished his newly collected wand with a smirk. "Constant vigilance, Lupin."

When Remus held out his hand for it to be returned, the other man shook his head.

"I think not."

Hermione glanced between them in surprise. "Doesn't he need his wand?"

"Whatever for?" Severus smirked, stowing the extra wand in his sheath. "Any protection he requires, _you_ will provide."

"What?" she gasped, flicking her gaze toward Remus and noticing he bore an uncomfortable expression.

"I expect this exercise to strike home the message that this shield is only to be used under appropriate circumstances – when the other individual is incapable of defending themselves," he replied, rolling his shoulders. "I also expect it will serve as a somewhat painful reminder to the wolf to keep his guard up from here on out."

Remus gave a brief, disheartened smile as moved to stand beside the witch.

"Oh, don't fret, Lupin," Snape grinned, raising his wand. "Besides, I do believe I owe you a few Stinging Hexes."


	59. Taming the Dragon

**A/N: Uff! It has been a crazy time, but finally I have something new for you to read! I think it might be worth the wait...**

**Thanks for the continued reviews! For those of you asking how long this will be, I really don't know. I have quite a bit of plot left to resolve, so I can see this getting close to the 100-mark. Really, it's too soon to call. As for the question on how frequently I update... well, not as often as I would like. I do so whenever I get the chance. When I'm lucky, it's about twice a month.**

**'Full of Thanks' - if you would like to PM me or contact me on my livejournal page, please do.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 59**

Upon dropping into her seat next to Terry Boot in Arithmancy, Hermione was grateful to have reached her final class of the week. She was looking forward to having a lie in the next morning and holing up in her dormitory until her shift in the infirmary. It was sad really how excited she was to have a few hours to rest on her own. The week had practically dragged on, and she was tired.

Though she had initially found it cathartic to watch Severus hexing Remus, it lost its amusement factor after the fifth or sixth spell slipped through her shield. At that point, it became blatantly obvious to her that in the grand scheme of things, they were on the same side. She knew that the Marauder really only meant to help her – though, he was doing a piss poor job of it –and that he cared enough about her to withstand physical pain just to give her practice. From then on, every muffled groan that followed a failure of her shields increased her guilt and desperation to protect him. She was not certain that that particular outcome was one of the intended learning goals for the session, but she was grateful to Snape for reminding her that she should not alienate the man entirely.

As such, it had taken a few days for her to stop feeling guilty for the few dozen hexes that she had been unable to block, even though the man had waved off her apologies and assured her that he had suffered far worse – from Snape, especially – in the past. Granted, she was not ready to be bosom buddies with the werewolf, but she had stopped actively ignoring him when they passed each other in the hall.

Leaning down from her seat, Hermione grimaced at the soreness in her muscles. Her flying – or falling – lesson the night before had gone far better than the week prior, and she had even managed to slow herself to a gentle landing on a number of falls. Needless to say, Severus's methods for building her confidence on the broom would not translate well to an entire class, but they had certainly proved effective thus far. She doubted that she would ever be as eager to fly as Ron or Harry were, but if she could manage to handle flight well without feeling as though she were on the edge of a massive panic attack the entire time, it would be good enough for her.

With a quiet sigh, she opened the flap of her book bag to grab her Arithmancy notebook. When a foot appeared in her peripheral vision, she had just enough time to yank her hand away before the contents of her bag were strewn across the floor.

"Oops," Draco sneered, passing by the table.

"Oi!" Terry yelled, shooting to his feet. "You're a total wanker, Malfoy!"

The blonde shrugged coldly as he sank into his seat. A smug expression was plastered on his face as he watched the girl snatch up a folded piece of parchment before scrambling to stuff everything else back in her bag.

"He's going to get his one day," the Ravenclaw grumbled, kneeling beside Hermione as he helped her put her things back to rights.

She offered the boy a grateful smile. "Just let it be. It isn't worth it."

"You're right," Terry sighed. As he handed her the last few sheets of parchment, he cast a glare at the Slytherin and raised his voice enough to be overheard. "He isn't worth a damn thing."

Hermione glanced toward the blonde pureblood, pinching her lips together when she noticed a flicker of hurt in his eyes. The flash of vulnerability was replaced almost immediately by the haughtiness normally expected by the Malfoy heir, and the witch dropped her gaze back to her book bag. Clearing her throat, she thanked the boy beside her and then reclaimed her seat a moment after Professor Vector appeared.

Keeping one hand in her lap, she dutifully copied notes for several minutes until she was certain that no one else was paying any attention to her. In case Terry was to look over at her, she turned her torso slightly away from him and then peeked down at her lap. Silently, she unfolded the scrap of parchment that she had noticed Draco drop atop her belongings. With another short glance at the Slytherin, she bit her bottom lip and then began to read.

**_Sunday, 11 pm. 4th floor –Hengist of Woodcroft's bust. Come alone, or not at all._**

Her heart was beating rapidly as she subtly crumpled the note and stuffed it in the pocket of her robes.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Push me out, Minerva," Snape grumbled, lowering his wand. "You have to work on clearing your thoughts and getting me out of your head."

The Deputy Headmistress sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I thought I wasn't supposed to push you out."

He shook his head. "_You_ are not pretending to spy for the Dark Lord; ergo, _you_ do not need to be concerned with allowing anyone to rifle through your mental drawers. Hermione and I have to appear as though we are not hiding anything. _You_, however, are in Potter's camp when it comes to Occlumency. Don't allow anyone in, and if you do, keep your bloody mind clear."

"Oh, well you might have said something to that effect," she replied, adjusting her robes.

"I have. Repeatedly." The man rolled his eyes and raised his wand once more. "_Legilimens_."

After what seemed like ages worth of strolling through mundane memories of teaching duties and watching Quidditch, Severus cancelled the incantation and paced for half a minute. He had felt the inkling that she did not want him in her head, but the push had been minimal.

"Well, are you going to try again?" McGonagall asked. "Or do you have some other bit of wisdom to impart?"

He tossed her an irritated look and looked to the ceiling for one last moment of consideration. If there was anything he knew as a tried Occlumens, it was that desperation was a powerful motivator. The first time he had gone before the Dark Lord in his duplicitous role, it was only the desperate desire to keep Lily safe that had held his shields in place.

The Gryffindor Head, though, had not dealt with that panic or fear. He had given her more than a fortnight to ease into the practice, but time was not something they had in great supply. Hermione had not received such a gentle introduction into the art of Occlumency, so Minerva need not be coddled any further. If she was going to lead the Order, she needed to know how to handle herself under pressure. The memories he had been perusing appeared to hold no real threat to her, and so she was not desperate to keep them private. Thus, it was time to challenge her. She needed to realize just how dangerous those seemingly innocuous images could be.

Setting his jaw, Snape gestured for her to prepare herself and then murmured the incantation again. As he had done every other time he had slipped into her mind, he sought out an ordinary recollection of a day in class. This time, however, he purposely snagged one of the courses in which Granger and her unfortunate friends had attended. For a brief second, he followed behind the woman as she monitored her students' progress in transfiguring a button into an ottoman. When she passed by the infamous trio, however, he darted away and pushed upon Hermione's image.

As he was sucked into a whirlwind of memories of the girl, he reached out for one that was radiating with feelings of concern. Yanking that forward, he found himself again in the same classroom as he watched the girl closing her eyes and holding her breath as she sank into a chair beside Potter. The young witch was clearly suffering some affliction, which worried the woman enough to reach for a piece of parchment.

After she managed to pen the words '**_He has a half-hour break_**,' Severus snatched at the paper and was immediately thrown into his own sitting room, watching himself sullenly staring at the fireplace. He could feel Minerva pushing against him with greater force than before, but still he pressed on in his lesson.

_"Have the two of you spoken since the incident with Remus?"_

_"We've maintained conversation, but I assume you're asking if we've had some groundbreaking heart-to-heart."_

_"I'm not going to be your go-between, Severus. I will hold your secrets and I will hold hers, but.."_

The wizard could feel himself being ejected from the memory, but at the last second, he latched onto the notion of secrets. Whirling into a room he recognized as a dormitory bathroom, he stopped short at the sight of Hermione huddled on the floor between the tub and toilet with tear tracks evident upon her cheeks.

_"…tell me what you're feeling so that perhaps I can help you."_

_"I stopped thinking about it, you know… I didn't even realize it until now, but I haven't thought about… that night for a while. I mean it isn't like I forgot about it, but I just didn't… think about it."_

Severus could feel Minerva's magic lashing against him, trying to force him away from the scene. He knew that he should probably do as she asked, since he had demonstrated full well what was possible, but something held him there. Pushing back against her defenses, he submitted to the urge to learn what was upsetting the girl.

_"… I wanted to think that what we were doing was something real instead of… something forced. But then he said that, and I realized he's right."_

The man narrowed his eyes in confusion. It was clear that they were discussing him, but he could not quite imagine what he had said to cause her so much distress.

_"What? No, he –"_

_"Not about the Death Eater part, but the part about me."_

_"Hermione, no."_

The young Gryffindor turned to look up at her Head of House, and he could see the broken expression on her face. _"It is. I'm just a victim who has been doing everything I can to convince myself that I'm not! And I've been trying to force him into the charade along with me. He keeps trying to get me to stop, but he won't actually say it, so I keep pushing and pushing… and it's all just a lie!"_

Snape felt his stomach beginning to twist. He realized that the conversation had taken place the night of his birthday after he had shouted at Lupin without considering how it would affect her. He had not meant whatever it was he had spewed, and again he had damaged her without intending to.

_"He hasn't over-stepped his bound with me, because I'm just part of his duty… an obligation, and nothing more. I'm the one pressuring him into something more, and he won't stop me because he feels guilty for having been forced to hurt me. But you must already know this since you told me not to keep pushing."_

_"That wasn't my intent –"_

_"I just wanted to be normal… to have something normal… to be someone he wants, but I'm not because I'm not… enough."_

The Slytherin closed his eyes. He could not feel any actually feel resistance to his being there at the moment, but he had had enough. He could not passively sit by as she revealed his failures regarding the girl, and so without another moment's thought, he cancelled the spell and returned to his own head.

"Proud of yourself, are you?" Minerva sneered, glaring at him.

He swallowed uncertainly as mentally replayed what he had seen. Suddenly, he spun on his heel and rushed toward the office door. As he yanked it open, however, it immediately slammed closed again, and he could feel that wards had been applied to essentially bolt it shut.

"Open the damn door, woman!" he growled, turning back to the room.

The witch stood from her chair. "What exactly do you think you're going to do?"

"I'm going to set her bloody straight!" the man declared.

McGonagall sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "If you've seen that much, you might as well see the rest of it before you go charging off."

"I don't…" He shook his head and folded his arms to his chest. "Tell me what it is she meant when she said _you_ told her to stop bothering me!"

She grimaced slightly at his angry tone as she perched against her desk. "She misunderstood what I meant, Severus. I wasn't trying to tell her that you had no feelings for her. I was trying to… give you time to adjust."

"To _adjust_?" he scoffed. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Severus, you've been punishing yourself for the situation you're _both_ facing," the woman explained. "You believe it to be _your_ fault, when it isn't. Even Hermione knows it isn't, and _has_ known since the day after it happened! And then you came to me because when she forgave you for an accident and immediately showed you affection, you saw it as the same as your mother making excuses for your father's abuse. I thought you needed time to deal with that, because if you didn't, you would never be comfortable with her. You would walk on eggshells around her, beating yourself up over every perceived wrong. Since she didn't hate you, you would hate yourself, and that's the last thing I want for you."

The wizard swallowed uncomfortably and ran his hand through his hair.

"I told Hermione that she should speak to you about everything," she continued, "but she seemed concerned that you would pity her if you knew what she was feeling."

"I've quite explicitly told her that I do not."

Minerva nodded wearily. "I know you wouldn't, and I told her that. But if she hasn't told you, something else must be holding her back. She has it in her head that you would never be happy with her."

"That I would never be _happy_ with her?" he repeated in disbelief. "Why is _that_ her concern?"

"Because," the woman replied, "she has grown to care for you and wants to know that it will not forever be unrequited."

Grimacing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "But she… I mean, the circumstances that led to…"

"Matter only so long as you make them matter," McGonagall finished. "The beginning is never as important as the ending."

"But if it's not authentic… the bond…"

"Are you suggesting the bond creates these feelings she has for you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Of course not. But it forces her to be… intimate with me, and I'm… Well, it's essentially a captive identifying with her captor, isn't it?"

Minerva raised one eyebrow. "You mean like Stockholm Syndrome?"

He shrugged in agreement and then spoke softly. "Or like a battered wife."

"Severus," she sighed, dropping her shoulders. She paused for half a minute as she attempted to think of something to say that would dissuade him of the notion, but eventually admitted defeat. "I think you need to talk to Hermione about those concerns. You aren't going to take anything I say at face value, but please believe me when I say that I know her feelings are genuine. They are not part of some coping mechanism that you and Remus have made her think they are. And she thinks that you will find her pitiable for having developed them."

Snape balled his hands into fists and then moved toward the door. "I need to deal with this."

"Do you promise you will handle it in a considerate fashion?" McGonagall asked. When he nodded, she flicked her wand at the door to release the wards. "Remember, in forty minutes, you're supposed to help supervise apparition lessons."

With a growl, the man burst through her office door and rushed toward the staircase. As he rounded the corner, he narrowly avoided colliding with his former classmate.

"Severus, is something wrong?"

"Lupin," he murmured, "May I impose upon you to cover my supervision duty at this afternoon's apparition session? I've just been made aware that I have a more pressing matter to attend to."

The werewolf's eyes widened slightly and unconsciously flicked toward the spy's left arm. Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you," the Slytherin replied, continuing on his path toward the stairs.

"Good luck, Severus," Remus stated just loud enough to be heard.

Snape sucked in an uncomfortable breath as he descended toward the ground floor. He had not exactly been planning to fake a summoning, but if it gave him the time he needed, then so be it. Touching down onto the floor of the Entrance Hall, he quickly glanced about the space. Seeing no one, he disillusioned himself and then made his way to the staffroom. Once inside the empty room, he stole to the fireplace and Flooed into the empty office on the sixth floor.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

**'Granger. Room of Requirement. You shouldn't be seen.'**

Hermione's brow furled as the voice slipped across her thoughts. Clearing her throat, she glanced up from the pages of her book. "Harry, what time are the lessons again?"

"At two," he replied, glancing down at his watch. "So in, erm, half hour."

"Oh, okay," she smiled, closing her book. "I didn't want you two to be late."

"Thanks," Neville murmured.

The girl nodded as she stuffed her book back in her bag. "I'll see you guys at supper, yes?"

"Are you alright, Hermione?"

"Oh, yeah." Standing from her chair, she swung her bag over her shoulder. "I just realized I left my mediwitch's handbook in my room. I think I'll just read it there and take a nap before supper."

After the boys offered mumbled farewells, the witch calmly walked out of the library and then down the corridor to the staircases. Once she had reached the seventh floor, she ascertained that no one was watching and then disillusioned herself. As quietly as she could, she sprinted toward the Room of Requirement, hoping that whatever the reason was for meeting there was not horrible.

Holding her breath, she reached for the ornate door knob that had appeared at her approach. As she slipped into the room, she glanced about the cozy space in uncertainty and then removed her Disillusionment charm. Her eyes locked onto Snape's form as he stood by the fire, and she rubbed her arm after depositing her book bag on the floor. "Severus? Is something wrong?"

With a nod, the man slowly turned to face her and then gestured toward the sofa. "I believe we need to talk."

"About?" Hermione asked, stepping around the end of the couch. When she took a seat on one end, he claimed the other side.

The wizard took in a deep breath before turning his torso to face her. "You have asked for honesty from me, and I feel it is only fair that I ask the same of you."

"Okay," she replied slowly. "I don't know what you think I've been hiding from you. I told you about Draco –"

"We're not discussing Mr. Malfoy at the moment," he interrupted. "We're discussing you."

The girl flattened her palms against her thighs. "I thought we had this conversation already."

"I _attempted_ to have this conversation," he corrected. "I've come to realize, however, that you were not entirely truthful in your responses."

Her eyebrows narrowed as she crossed her arms. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Unless you are truly unfamiliar with the definition of the word 'fine', I think you know exactly what I mean," Severus replied. When she said nothing, he shifted uncomfortably. "Hermione, whatever it is… I told you I would not think any less of you."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Hermione pushed off of the couch and crossed over to the fireplace. "You also said that I didn't have to tell you unless it was a matter of safety or importance."

"Do you not consider your personal well-being to be important?" he questioned, tilting his head.

The witch turned to stare at him as she floundered for a response.

"Please," he murmured. "I would like to know."

Leaning back against the warm stone of the fireplace, the girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "Please, don't make me."

"Why?"

When her lower lip trembled and she twisted her body away from him, he swallowed hesitantly. "Hermione, are you frightened of me?"

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I'm scared for you… but not of you."

A measure of relief flooded his system at her response. "Then what is it that is preventing you from trusting me?"

"I _trust_ you," Hermione huffed defensively, facing him. As he continued staring at her, she took in a deep breath and ran a hand through her hair. "I just… you'll think me utterly pathetic."

The man shook his head slowly. "I can promise that I will never think that."

She bit down on her lip as she eyed him for several long seconds. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything," he replied, leaning forward.

Wrapping her arms about her waist, the girl dropped her gaze to the floor. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what to say.

"Why did you flee so quickly after the last renewal?" he finally queried.

Hermione grimaced before mumbling, "Because it hurt too much."

"What?" the wizard gasped, rising from his seat and approaching her. "I hurt you? Why didn't you say anything?"

Raising her eyes to meet his concerned gaze, she quickly shook her head. "No, not like _that_. Not physically. I meant that it was hard… it hurt to have it be _that_ way again after… what I thought it had been."

"For it to be what way again?"

"Like it was in the beginning," she muttered while stepping away from him. "Cold, emotionless, nothing more than a requirement."

Severus narrowed his eyes in confusion. "_That's_ what you thought of it? Hermione, I did everything I could to –"

"No, you don't get it!" she cried, spinning around. "I tried to tell you this before – I can't do it! I can't feel something one moment and then completely ignore it the rest of the time. If you expect me to do so, then you are either an arse or an idiot who has far more faith in my ability as an Occlumens than you should."

Stunned by her statement, the man stared at her for a long moment. "You mean to tell me that you were actively occluding during –"

"Yes!" she snapped. "I was occluding during sex, because I would rather feel _nothing_ than force myself to forget everything I did!"

His mouth opened and closed lamely as he took in her confession. Extending his hand toward her, he touched the side of her face only to have her pull away a second later.

"Please don't," she whispered. "I don't need you to pretend any more. I've come to terms with the situation."

"What situation?"

Hermione strode back toward the sofa and climbed onto the end. "I've realized that I've been building this fantasy to deal with everything. I thought I was only joking about it to begin with, but I must've actually been doing it. And you've allowed me to do it because it made it easier for me."

She swallowed back tears before continuing. "I see my friends having romantic relationships, and I feel jealous because they have something that I'll probably never have. So I imagined that you and I _could_ have something similar, but I've only been fooling myself. I'm not your _girlfriend_. I'm your student… your charge… your responsibility. Perhaps I'm your friend, but to consider myself as anything more is… I would be daft to consider it."

"Hermione," Snape uttered slowly as he reclaimed the seat beside her. "I do not see you as an obligation, and I have not seen you as merely a student in some time. Despite what I must portray in the classroom, I _do_ consider you a friend _and_ an equal. More than that, you are… my partner."

"In some disturbing twist of an arranged marriage, perhaps," she muttered glumly.

The wizard blew out a languid breath and placed one hand atop hers. "I cannot deny that this would never have occurred had it not been forced upon us, but I do not believe that makes it anything less than what it is. The… end is more important than the beginning, isn't it?"

Glancing down at his hand, the girl sighed audibly.

"Hermione, I have shared more with you than I thought I would ever be comfortable sharing with anyone," he confessed. "I… trust you beyond anyone else, and I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm. We are in this together… indefinitely."

She blinked back a few tears and rested her chin upon her knees. Wrapping her fingers around his hand, however, seemed to give her the confidence she needed to whisper, "Do you think you will ever desire me?"

His dark eyes immediately locked onto her face. "You think I am not currently attracted to you?"

"No, I don't," she replied honestly.

Frowning, he squeezed her hand gently. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

"The bond," the witch answered, yanking away from him so that she could pace in front of the sofa. "You said that the frequency of its renewal was dependent upon my desires as well as your own, but it's only ever been affected by mine. And whenever we… were intimate when it wasn't immediately required, I had to _convince_ you. You would never have pursued it if I didn't _force_ you into it. The _only_ time you ever brought it up yourself was the very first time, and even then it was only because I would have _died_ if you didn't!"

Severus tracked her movement as she spoke and then rubbed his face with both hands. "Hermione, please listen. You've misunderstood everything. I haven't … Merlin, the reason I haven't _pursued_ and was hesitant to accept more of a physical relationship with you is _not_ because I do not find you desirable. It was because… because I did not trust that the bond would not torment you further."

"What?" she whispered.

"Do you think you're the only one who has been employing Occlumency to combat particular thoughts?" Severus quipped with a small smirk. "I have been forced to do many undesirable things in my life, I assure you, but having sex with you is not one of them."

"Well, I know I'm not pretty."

His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden declaration. "Well, then clearly you know something I don't. I, for one, would not assume that Mr. McLaggen would risk _my_ wrath to drag an _ugly_ witch around the village all afternoon."

"His standards are quite lax, in my opinion," she argued, raising her chin.

"And you assume mine would be more stringent in that regard?" he asked, leaning against the armrest in mild amusement. "Who be I to judge one's physical appearance?"

The witch shrugged her shoulders and looked at the floor. "You seemed to have judged well in the past."

With a narrowed brow, Snape stared at her for nearly a minute before he understood her meaning. The smirk left his face as he shifted forward in his seat. "Is this about Lily?"

"I've seen Harry's pictures of her," she remarked quietly. "I'm never going to be like her. I'm not tall or graceful or curvy. I have too many freckles, and my hair is atrocious, and –"

"Enough, Granger," he grumbled, rising from the couch. He stepped in front of her and slipped his hand beneath her chin. "Lily's appearance may have been what attracted the idiot Marauders' attentions, but that had nothing to do with why _I_ loved her. She was my only friend – the _only_ person I could talk to for many years. She treated me like an actual human being, enjoyed spending time with me, and made me feel like I was worth something. _That_ is why I loved her."

"You still love her, don't you?" Hermione asked.

The man nodded slowly. "I will always."

"I thought so," she murmured.

Severus sighed as he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. "Do you remember what you told me months ago about Weasley? That you would never forgive yourself if you made him hate you? That you loved him, but didn't know to what extent? If that is still true, then you should understand my feelings for Lily."

The girl gave a nod before slipping out of his grasp. After gripping her hair in both hands for a moment, she nervously glanced back at him. "You really only pushed me away because you were worried about the bond?"

The wizard began to nod, but then grimaced. "Not entirely."

"Because I'm still a student?"

"Well, that certainly hasn't helped anything," he sighed, before sinking onto the couch.

"But there's something else?" she pressed. When he nodded, she rubbed her upper arm. "Is it because I –"

"It doesn't really have anything to do with you," Snape interrupted, resting his elbows on his thighs. "There's something else that… I've never discussed with anyone but Minerva."

Hermione studied him carefully for a moment, noticing that he bore an anguished expression. Upon remembering her conversation with the Deputy Headmistress after the incident with Remus, she cleared her throat and moved to sit beside him. "Please tell me."

Wincing, the wizard rubbed his hand over his face and then kept his eyes trained on the floor. "My mother was only eighteen when she… _met_ my father. She had just graduated from Hogwarts and had run away from the Wizarding World. Her mother had died shortly before then, and the man she fancied had broken her heart, so when _he_ came upon her at some seedy pub, she was not thinking clearly. She tried to return home afterward, but upon discovering her pregnancy, my grandfather disinherited her."

While he paused for a moment, the witch held her breath.

"With no money or experience, she thought that her best option was to seek him out again. Frankly, I think she would have been better off on her own, but that simply isn't _done_ in the Wizarding World. It was the same pureblooded upbringing that prevented her from ever leaving him, and so she suffered greatly."

"What happened to her?" the girl asked softly.

Snape exhaled lengthily as he rubbed his forehead. "She died a few months after I joined the Dark Lord. She had not had the best of health to begin with, and she never trusted Muggle medicine. I tried to bring her whatever potions she needed, but she never really cared enough to take them. I hardly remember her ever sleeping, and after I graduated, she stopped eating regularly."

"How old was she then?"

"Not any older than I am now," he replied after a moment of consideration. "Thirty-seven."

"I'm sorry," Hermione murmured, tucking her hands beneath her arms so as to resist the urge to hug him. "What about... erm, what happened to your father?"

His upper lip curled in disgust as he leaned back against the sofa. "He managed a few more years before the cirrhosis claimed him. He, however, was nearly sixty at the time."

Her eyes widened slightly at the information, and she quickly began doing calculations in her head. There had to be a nearly twenty year age difference between his parents – similar to the one separating her from Severus.

"For several years after she died…" The man stalled momentarily and squeezed his hands into fists. "I would wake in the middle of the night, hearing her screams or the excuses she used to make for him when I was a small child. Those nightmares eventually went away… at least they did until a few months ago."

The girl's lips parted in horrified understanding.

"Only now," he added quietly, fixing her with an injured look, "I've become him."

"No!" she gasped, scrambling even closer to him. Before he could react, the witch had settled onto his lap with her arms clutched tightly around his shoulders and her forehead pressed against the side of his face. "You can't think that! It isn't right!"

"Isn't it?" the man mumbled, taking in a deep breath. "Considering everything I've done to you recently?"

"_No_, Severus." The brunette shook her head as she pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. "None of this was your fault. I could _never_ blame you for it."

He took in an uncomfortable breath. "Neither did she."

Hermione sank against him with a sigh and then cupped his cheek with her hand. "From what you've told me, your father blamed everything on your mother, yes? Have you ever resented _me_ for our situation?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "Never."

A small smile played at her lips as she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Then you shouldn't compare yourself to him."

Severus closed his eyes and wrapped his arms about her torso. "I've hurt you."

"Not because you wanted to," she argued. When he did not say anything, she rested her head against his. "Dad once gave Mum a black-eye because he didn't know she was coming up behind him while he was telling a story and gesturing wildly with his hands. He also threw her back out when he forgot to tell her that he was setting down his end of a heavy piece of furniture, and broke her nose when he pushed open the kitchen door at Gram's house harder than he should have. He's slammed my leg in a car door, pinched my fingers in a closet door, and elbowed me in the forehead when turning around. He stepped on Crookshanks in the middle of the night and gave him that crick in his tail."

"What's your point, Granger?"

"Dad's hurt us a number of times over the years without meaning it," the girl responded. "You've met him – would you classify him along with your father?"

"Of course not."

Hermione nodded. "_That's_ my point."

The man took in a deep breath and then tightened his hold on her. "For future reference, if I ever hurt you in _any_ manner – accidentally or not –I want you to confront me… like you did after Potter's cauldron blew. Please don't keep it to yourself like you did this time."

"Okay," she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck. For several minutes they sat together in silence until she cleared her throat. "Aren't you late for apparition lessons?"

"Lupin's covering for me," he replied. "He assumed that I had been summoned."

The girl narrowed her eyes in consideration and then shifted against him. "So he isn't likely to be prowling the corridors looking for you?"

He snorted sadly and shook his head. "I do not think it likely, no."

"I see," Hermione murmured, chewing on her bottom lip. "It has been two weeks, you know."

"Granger…"

"Well, we're here, and no one's wondering where we are. Remus won't suspect we've been together."

Snape took in a slow breath as he moved one hand to her hip. "Are you planning to occlude during it?"

The witch paused for a moment before pushing back to look at him. "Are you going to request that I never think about it again once I leave the room?"

"No," he sighed, shaking his head. "Not if it's going to cause you more distress than not."

"Then I won't," she whispered, touching his face. A few seconds passed before she leaned down and hesitantly pressed her lips against his. The wizard inhaled quickly as he pulled her into his chest and drew her deeper into the kiss.

Hermione sighed happily as they separated a long moment later. Smiling, she kissed the corner of his mouth and then rose up onto her knees so that she was staring down at him. "I've missed being able to bother you, you know."

"I must admit my rooms have been dreadfully quiet without anyone breaking into them at all hours of the day," he replied, resting his head against the back of the sofa so as to look up at her.

A smirk played at her lips as she slowly leaned down to kiss him again. As their tongues continued their exploration of each other's mouths, his hands splayed across her bottom before eventually pushing up beneath her jumper. With a small grunt, the girl drew away from him long enough to remove her top layers. Tossing them aside, she grinned when his fingers immediately spread out across her bared torso. She paused only briefly before similarly dispatching of her pink bra and then captured his mouth with hers again, moaning into him when he cupped her breasts with his hands and flicked his thumbs over her nipples.

Snape gradually left her mouth and began trailing kisses down the length of her neck and collarbone. A gasp escaped her lips as he latched onto one of her nipples, and while his tongue assailed the sensitive bud, she ran her hands through his hair and clutched him close to her chest. By the time he had finished applying the same treatment to her other hardened peak, the young witch was trembling with need.

"Severus," she panted, grinding against the bulge in his trousers. "Now… please."

"As you wish," he murmured, shifting to lay her down on the seat cushions. For a few seconds he considered undressing by hand, but upon hearing her desperate whimpers, he magically vanished their remaining clothes and settled over her.

"Don't wait," she groaned, reaching for him. "Do it now."

"Has anyone ever told you that you're incredibly bossy?" the man quipped.

"Yes." Her chuckle melted into a loud moan, and she immediately arched against his chest as he slid inside of her. "Oh god… _yes_."

For several minutes they moved together until Hermione cried out unintelligibly as she spasmed around him. Instead of pushing through to his own completion, however, the wizard halted his motions and merely watched her as she came down from her pleasured high. When she gave him a heavy-lidded smile, he pressed a quick kiss to her mouth before withdrawing his still hardened member from her channel.

"No, wait…" she cried, failing to grab hold of him. "Where are you going?"

"Not anywhere far," he smirked, bending over to scoop her into his arms. "After the abysmal performance last time, I figure I had better make up for it."

Slipping her arms around his neck, the witch glanced over her shoulder to see that their destination was a large bed that the Room had silently provided. "Oh, indeed you'd better."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Half an hour later found the young woman falling asleep with her head on his chest. As a stray thought entered her mind, however, she launched forward with a panicked gasp.

"What?" the man asked, opening his own drooping eyelids.

Hermione glanced back at him with a worried expression on her face. "Severus, you didn't happen to bring a contraceptive with you, did you?"

"Shite," he whispered, covering his eyes with his hand. "I wasn't expecting this particular conclusion, so I did not."

"Well, what do we –"

"Dobby!" the man shouted, interrupting her question.

As the elf popped into the room, the witch squawked loudly and immediately yanked the thick comforter over her head.

"Is Hermione Granger alright, Master Snape, sir?" Dobby asked, leaning onto his tiptoes to peer at the quivering green lump on the bed.

"Yes, she's fine."

"Is you sure?"

"I am," he smirked, propping himself up on one elbow. "She's merely trying to hide her current nakedness."

A muffled sound of protest came from the girl, and Severus grunted when her hand shot out beneath the blanket to punch his side.

Dobby's eyes widened slightly. "Is Master Snape, sir alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he rolled his eyes. "Now, I need you to fetch one of the salmon-hued potions from my bedside table."

"Of course, Master Snape, sir!" the elf cried, popping into thin air. A short moment later, he returned with the vial in hand.

"Thank you, Dobby," the man mumbled as he took the proffered flask.

The creature beamed before disappearing once again. At the sound of his departure, Hermione tossed the covers off of her head. Snatching the potion out of his hand, she fixed her bed partner with a glare.

Severus waited until she had ingested the contraceptive before shrugging. "I assure you, that elf has been aware of our relationship since the beginning. He's been sworn to secrecy."

"That's not the point," she snapped, grabbing hold of a pillow and swatting him with it. "You could have warned me beforehand!"

"I'm sorry," he snorted as he tugged the makeshift weapon from her hand.

"Arse," the girl muttered beneath her breath, turning away from him and pulling the blankets up to her chin. After a few minutes, she sighed and snuggled back against his side. "How long can you stay?"

Snape took in a long breath before glancing down at her. "Probably longer than you can."

"I have until supper," she stated, tracing her fingers over one of the thin scars from his most recent bout of torture. When he stilled her hand, she tucked it between their bodies and then cleared her throat. "I wanted to ask you something before I meet with Draco tomorrow."

"And what might that be?"

"Well, I was wondering…" She paused briefly to stare at his left forearm as he raised it to run his hand over his face. "… if the Dark Mark is similar to the magic of the binding."

There was an uncomfortable hitch in his breath before he finally answered. "Yes, I do believe it is quite similar… albeit less autonomous. Why do you ask that?"

"Because I was thinking about the salve you made for when my marking burns, and was curious if it would work for Draco," Hermione replied quietly. "I mean, he's obviously in a really dangerous position and needs to be able to think clearly. It would be hard enough to do that with his mother's safety at risk, but how could he possibly do so if he's in constant pain? I wouldn't be able to do it."

The wizard closed his eyes and tapped his fingertips against the mattress as he considered it. A moment later, he cleared his throat. "In theory, I suppose it should work. I do not believe it will bring complete relief as it does to yours since it was not my magic that created the bond. Furthermore, the mechanism of the Dark Mark is different from the binding as it depends upon free will for it to establish correctly."

"What do you mean?"

Snape grimaced as he pushed himself into a seated position. "The manner in which I bound you to myself was intended to be used to enslave a woman against her will, which is why it worked immediately though you were initially still underage. The Dark Mark, however, requires that the individual to be marked is entering into servitude willingly – at least at the start."

Clutching the blankets to her chest, the witch sat forward and turned to look at him. "I didn't imagine that Vol –"

"The Dark Lord," he corrected.

"The _Dark Lord_," she repeated with a sigh. "Anyway, I cannot quite imagine that _he_ would be very enthralled by the notion of free will."

The man snorted softly as he folded his arms. "Of course he isn't. But the Dark Mark is a symbol of his trust. He does not grant it to any but his Inner Circle because he uses it as another protection against deception. If one of his supposed followers refuses the Mark when it is offered, it is assumed that they are disloyal and are dispatched of rather quickly. Similarly, if someone accepts the Mark, but it does not function correctly, it is seen as another level of treachery altogether."

"But what about yours?" she gasped, looking at his arms in fear.

He shook his head. "Once the magic is set, it is set. At the time I joined him, I did so willingly. Lucius had spent so many years convincing me of the honor it would be to serve the Dark Lord, and had promised that because of my academic and magical prowess, that he was sure to overlook the issue of my Muggle heritage… provided, of course, that I renounce it entirely. Given my rather narrow view of it, I had no qualms in doing just that."

Severus took in a deep breath and glared into empty space. "The Dark Lord used to be exceptionally charming when he wanted to be. If he had an interest in you or your abilities, he made it well known. I would have given nearly anything to have that level of recognition and support, and he knew it. I swore fealty to him and immediately received his patronage for my Potions Mastery. While I worked to become the youngest Master in over two hundred years, he took me under his wing, so to speak, and sold me every lie you could imagine. And I bought them all, until…"

"Until he went after Harry… and Lily," the girl supplied when he trailed off.

The wizard nodded slowly before clearing his throat. "Anyway, my point is that the Dark Mark only requires free will at the outset. If the Mark is accepted without true devotion, it will burn and be utterly useless except as a means of detecting and punishing untrustworthy followers. That being said, since Draco does not reach his majority until June, he cannot actually consent to anything – magically or otherwise. In June, it will likely take hold properly and the Dark Lord will be able to use it as a means of summoning him."

"I see," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees as she tried to fight off the feeling of nausea that was threatening to claim her. "Would the salve work at all?"

"It may," he answered. "Likely it will provide temporary relief, but will wear off over the course of the day. It may need to be frequently reapplied."

"Do you have any extra that I could bring him tomorrow?"

Snape shook his head lightly. "Not at the exact moment, but I can prepare a new batch this evening. It only has to sit overnight before it can be used."

"Okay," Hermione mumbled as she slowly settled back against the mattress. Tugging the comforter over her shoulder, she turned against his side and then stifled a yawn.

"You should sleep," he stated. "There may be remaining injuries from apparition attempts that may delay your brewing."

The witch groaned softly, shifting slightly against him. "Will you wake me in an hour or so?"

As he grunted in the affirmative, she closed her eyes and slipped her arm around his. "Thank you."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione gripped her wand tightly as she crept through the darkened corridors. Though she was disillusioned and could technically claim that she was simply running late conducting her rounds, her heart was pounding in her chest at the prospect of getting caught out after curfew. Of course, it was highly probable that her anxiety stemmed more from the fact that she was sneaking through the castle to meet with the boy that had been her sworn enemy for the past five and a half years. Draco Malfoy was probably the last student that she would have ever trusted to meet in the dead of night – besides Cormac, of course – but she could not let him suffer.

After rushing down the last set of stairs, the witch came to a sudden stop when she caught sight of a feline shape at the end of the corridor. Holding her breath, she quickly ducked behind the nearest statue and bit her lip as she heard the angry mutterings of the elderly caretaker.

At the sound of the cat's meow, the girl pressed as far back against the wall as she could.

"What have you found, my sweet?" Filch murmured, shuffling quickly toward the alerting feline. "A student out of bed?"

_Shite_. Hermione grimaced as the man appeared in her line of sight. As he held up his lantern and peered into the space in front of her, she forced herself to remain motionless, lest he see any trace of the disillusionment charm. Her stomach lurched when Mrs. Norris gave another cry, and she very nearly jumped when she felt something brush across her shins.

A familiar yowl sounded a second later, causing the grizzled Squib to glance down near her feet.

"You again, eh?" Filch sneered.

With a soft purr, Crookshanks rubbed against his legs and then proceeded to greet the smaller cat in a similar fashion.

"Out hunting again, Mr. Puss?" the caretaker asked, stepping back from the statue. "Hungry, are you?"

The ginger-furred cat meowed softly in response, eliciting a gruff chuckle from the man.

"Come along, sweets," he called while setting off in the direction of the staircases. "Mr. Puss is stopping by for some kippers again."

Though the mottled-colored cat glared briefly in the girl's direction, she followed her master's instruction, rushing toward his ambling form as though she were concerned the interloping cat would get her share as well.

Hermione swallowed slowly as she peered around the corner of the statue and watched her familiar's bottlebrush tail swishing in satisfaction as he pranced after the odd pair.

"Mr. Puss?" she mouthed silently once they had disappeared.

Muffled chimes drew her attention back to her original task, however, and the witch quickly sprinted the rest of the way toward the specified meeting spot. She doubted that the Slytherin would have enough patience to wait more than a few minutes for her.

Upon finally reaching the bust of the Hogsmeade village founder, Hermione glanced around in concern when she saw that the hallway was empty. Adrenaline still pumping through her system, she quickly rid herself of the cloaking charm and nervously waited for any sign that the boy was there.

A door creaked open a few seconds later, and the witch swallowed anxiously before entering an unused classroom that was filled with a number of extra desks and chairs piled against one of the walls.

"You're late," Draco sneered after shutting the door and casting a silencing charm.

"Erm, I know," she sighed. "Mrs. Norris –"

"You are alone?" he interrupted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and then nodded. "Of course, I am."

"You're not… communicating with him or whatever the hell you did last time?" the boy pressed.

"Oh," she murmured, rubbing her shoulder with one hand. "Erm, no. I mean, he can hear through me if he wants to, but he has no wish to eavesdrop on you without your consent."

Malfoy stared at her in confusion for several seconds and then leaned back against the wall. "He actually trusts you?"

"I guess he does," the witch shrugged. "Then again, he can always just order me to reveal something if he feels I've been dishonest with him about anything."

With a small grunt, he slid down to the floor. He stared at his hands for a minute before breaking the odd silence. "Does it react like that every time?"

"If I defy a command he's given me," the girl replied quietly, "whether he's meant to or not."

The blonde raised his eyes to hers. "What do you mean, 'Or not'?"

With a slow sigh, Hermione descended into a seat on the floor beside him. "Do you remember when Harry's cauldron exploded last term?"

"Who doesn't?" Draco smirked. "Who could forget the day that Potty blew up a classroom?"

She rolled her eyes and shifted against the wall. "Well, it was also the day that Granger nearly asphyxiated to death because she was told to be quiet and still, and the act of breathing requires both sound and motion."

"What?"

"I was trying to tell him that Harry had done something stupid, but he wasn't listening to me," she explained quietly. "If it hadn't been for Ernie…"

"You'd be dead?" he asked; his face twisting in surprise.

The witch nodded and pulled her knees to her chest. "Probably not just me if that cauldron had blown any sooner."

Malfoy grunted in agreement and then turned to stare at the wall for a long moment. "So we weren't the only ones who've nearly done you in, then?"

Snorting bitterly, she shook her head. "Not even close. I mean, between you, Professor Snape, and Harry… and Bellatrix… and myself, I'm surprised I'm still here."

"Aunt Bella?" he asked shakily. "She wouldn't ruin his plan if you are as valuable as Snape claims."

"Wouldn't she?" Hermione countered, locking eyes with him as she folded her arms to her chest. "She nearly killed Se-Professor Snape the last time he was summoned."

The wizard blanched in response and hung his head as he mumbled, "He walked away on his own."

"How would you know?" she snapped. "You weren't there."

"The fuck I wasn't!" the boy hissed, glaring at her. "It was the first day I was home on holiday! It happened in _my_ fucking house!"

The brunette closed her eyes briefly as she realized he did not know about the more recent occurrence. "I'm sorry. I wasn't referring to that time."

"That time?" he repeated. "What do you mean '_that_ time'?"

Leaning back against the wall, she cleared her throat. "He was summoned again two weeks ago, and the Dark Lord let her torture him. He… he was practically dead when he returned."

"Two weeks ago?" he whispered. "Why?"

Hermione paused momentarily, but decided it could not hurt anything to tell him. "Because I dropped Defense."

The boy's face fell, and he immediately averted his eyes to the wall. After taking in a deep breath, he narrowed his eyebrows. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have done that! And maybe you should have just gone with Potter over Christmas like you were supposed to!"

Flinching at his defensive tone, she launched to her feet and stepped further into the room. "Oh, and I suppose you would have had a perfectly logical explanation that I could give Harry for why halfway through holiday Professor Snape had to sneak into my bed!"

"What?" he hissed, rising to his feet.

"The bond has to be renewed every fortnight or so, or else it kills me," she explained angrily. "And the only way to do that –"

"You have to shag Snape?" Draco gasped; eyes wide. "Repeatedly?"

Hermione drew to her full height and raised her chin. "So what if I do?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, sinking against the nearest desk. "I mean… Merlin, who would have thought _you_ would ever put out?"

Her mouth parted in anger; the witch balled her hands into fists.

"I just assumed that was the reason why Weasel-face is messing around with that tart," he shrugged, "but if you're letting Snape up your skirts, then who wouldn't you–"

"You are such a bloody prat, Malfoy!" she shouted. "I'm just trying to help you because I thought maybe you were worth helping, but if you're just going poke fun at me for what _I_ have to do, you can just sod off! And for your information, _he's_ the only one I have and will ever sleep with, thanks to this stupid curse!"

Giving an exasperated groan, the witch stormed past him toward the door. After yanking it open, she paused to dig into the pocket of her robes. Extracting a small jar, she launched it at his head. "Unless you're ready to grow up, don't bother contacting me again."

With that, she slammed the door behind her and disappeared down the hallway.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

The next day, Hermione could not bring herself to look in Severus's direction during Potions or at lunch. She knew that he was waiting for her to report on any progress she had made with Draco, and she was dreading his reaction to how she had handled herself. The knowledge that she could have just destroyed any chance of the pureblood trusting them with the details of his mission had kept her up most of the night. And now that the school day was coming to an end, she was running out of time before she had to attend her private lesson. She highly doubted that Snape would let her leave without addressing the issue.

_Why couldn't I just bite my tongue?_ The girl sighed softly as she chastised herself for the umpteenth time that day. Looking up from her notes, she let her gaze drift over to the desk where the blonde Slytherin sat. Before she could quite look away, though, the boy glanced over his shoulder and locked eyes with her.

When there appeared to be no animosity held within his gaze, she sucked in an uncertain breath and focused her attention back on the Arithmancy lesson. After a few minutes, though, she saw something move in her peripheral vision, and upon glancing back toward him, noticed that he had inconspicuously let a small, crumpled piece of parchment fall to the floor. For a brief moment, she thought it must have been unintentional, but when Malfoy nudged it with his foot, she knew otherwise.

The rest of the hour passed while the girl was preoccupied over what the contents of his message could be. The fear niggling at the back of her mind assumed it was a rather nastily-articulated note telling her watch her back, but there was a very slight, hopeful voice claiming that he would not waste the effort to be subtle about it in that case. _Perhaps I didn't ruin it completely. _

Upon the conclusion of the class period, Hermione deliberately delayed in packing her bag so that she was the last to leave the room. With everyone else gone, she quickly snatched up the paper and then unfurled it. A smile crept onto her face as she read the five words he had penned.

**_Sunday – same time and place._**

Shoving the note into her pocket, she rushed out of the room with a much lighter heart. Suddenly, she was quite excited for her lesson that evening.


	60. Distractions

**A/N: So sorry for the delay - lots of family stuff going on around here. I hope you all are having a wonderful holiday season, and are so far enjoying the New Year. It's bloody cold up here.**

**And, erm, by "the next one might be even better..." just extend that a bit, because I got carried away with filling in scenes here, so what I was referring to is still yet ahead!**

**Thanks as always for the reviews. **

**Molly - I am extremely flattered by that! I do take it as a great compliment. Thank you.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 60**

Realizing that he had been staring blankly at the same essay for several minutes without comprehending more than a few sporadic words, Severus sighed deeply and then rubbed his eyes. Several times that day he had found his mind wandering toward the meeting that Hermione had supposedly had with the Malfoy heir the night prior. When she had given no word as to how it had gone, he had grown impatient and attempted to ask her that morning. As he had found she was hoping to wait to discuss it with him until she had processed everything for herself, however, he had opted to grant her the request.

As the day was rapidly drawing to a close, though, his curiosity was quickly wearing a hole through his patience. He did not think he would allow her to leave their lessons without discussing the matter. The only issue there would be getting rid of Lupin without drawing suspicion so that they could converse in the open.

A knock pulled him from his internal musings, and Snape instinctually glanced at the clock. There was approximately an hour before his scheduled lesson with the girl, so if everything went as per usual, whatever student it was seeking his assistance would be out of his hair just in time to meet her and the wolf.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat. "Enter."

His eyebrow raised in question when it was the bushy-haired Gryffindor herself who slipped into the room.

"Yes?" he asked, casting a _Muffliato_ as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione turned around with a bright smile. "I think I did it."

"Did what exactly?"

"Draco," she replied excitedly as she dropped into the chair in front of his desk. "I think I managed somehow to convince him to trust me. Maybe. At least, I think so."

"Such confidence in your declaration," Severus sneered, leaning back in his seat. "Do go on."

"Well," she stalled briefly. "Would you rather just view it for yourself? What happened last night?"

Though he did wish to do so wholeheartedly, he simply shrugged and eyed her carefully. "If you would prefer it."

"Well, it would make it easier for you to understand why I was so hesitant to tell you about it," she explained.

"So be it," he remarked quietly as he maneuvered in his chair enough to unlock the cabinet which held his small Pensieve. After taking a few minutes to set up the instrument, he gestured for the girl to stand beside him and then gently removed the silver strand of memory from her temple. Without pausing to ask her if she wished to accompany him, he dove into the recollection.

Several long moments later, he emerged with a noticeable frown on his face. Glancing toward the girl, who appeared to be half-dozing out of boredom in her chair, he narrowed his eyes. "I do not recall discussing –"

"I know we didn't plan on me telling him everything I did," she sighed, sitting properly in the seat, "but I just thought… well, maybe he would be more willing to open up to me about his secrets if I did the same with him. And besides, there wasn't anything I told him that V—the Dark Lord doesn't already know."

The man gave her a slight nod as he set to returning his Pensieve to its resting state. "I'm not certain I would have suggested shouting at him."

"I know," she groaned, wiping a hand over her face. "I felt like such an idiot afterwards for not holding my temper, but it just happened. I was so worried that I had ruined everything, which is why I didn't want to tell you right away."

Snape grunted as he flicked his eyes toward her. "You didn't think I would understand how easy it is to lose one's temper under pressure?"

"No," Hermione murmured slowly. "But you always manage to keep calm around _him_."

"Because I've had twenty years of practice," he replied, bending over to push the ornate bowl into the cabinet. "And because I take out my frustration elsewhere."

"You mean with your students," she translated, earning a smirk from the professor.

"Perhaps."

The witch rolled her eyes slightly and then crossed her arms. "I think maybe yelling at him helped, though. I mean, it would be pretty suspicious, I would think, if after five years of bad blood between us, I suddenly tolerated him fully. Plus, it probably showed him that you had not commanded me to behave a certain way around him."

"You've yet to tell me why you think this worked," he reminded her upon turning back to face her.

"Right," she smiled, leaning forward. "He dropped a note for me in class again, which said that he wants to meet at the same time and place this Sunday. I don't think he would bother with the whole cloak and dagger routine just to tell me to piss off, so something must have convinced him to take a chance. So maybe he was just testing to see how I would react?"

"Or he was just being a childish prat," Severus muttered quietly.

"Either way, it worked," she enunciated. "I have another chance."

The Slytherin folded his arms. "We shall see on Sunday. Now, however, we have other things to focus on this evening."

Hermione pushed out of her chair and followed him to the office door. "What is it we're doing tonight?"

"You will be perfecting the partner shield," he stated.

"So I'll be defending Remus against you again, then?"

"On the contrary," the man replied with a grin. "You shall be defending _me_ from the wolf."

As a recollection of the dark-haired wizard protecting her younger self from a transformed werewolf surfaced briefly in her mind, the girl cleared her throat and peered up at him in surprise.

"It's only fair," he answered coyly as they exited the room and made their way toward the unused classroom.

Upon reaching their destination, Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "You know, Professor McGonagall told me that you aren't actually a fair person."

"I'm absolutely gutted," he quipped, pushing the door shut.

"I don't think…." She trailed off momentarily before shaking her head. "You just want to appear fair, but really, you already know I can perform the charm, so it isn't actually fair at all."

Snape smirked as he leaned against a table. "Such a little know-it-all."

The girl narrowed her gaze and lifted her chin. "What's to stop me from _accidentally_ letting a hex or five through, hmm?"

As though he had been expecting the question, the wizard adopted a devious smile. "For every hex that hits me during this evening's lesson, I will require five laps about the Room of Requirement on Thursday evening."

"That's not so –"

"Both on broom _and_ on foot," he clarified.

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, the brunette shook her head. "Now who's being a childish prat?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Wheezing audibly, Hermione pushed herself to make it the short distance to where the Potions Master sat in an armchair in the middle of the Room of Requirement. As she approached him, he casually glanced up from his book.

"You're not done," he remarked.

The witch let out a gasping groan and sank to her knees on the floor. "I can't… no more…"

"Fifteen laps were required, were they not?"

With a sigh, she rolled onto her back and attempted to catch her breath. "I'll do the rest next week."

"I don't recall that being part of the deal."

The girl turned her head to glare up at his form. "Yeah, well I don't recall you saying that each lap was going to be a bloody quarter mile!"

"Must've slipped my mind," he murmured, flipping the page. "Are you nearly done lounging?"

"_Lounging_!" she snapped, propping herself up onto one hand. "I'm trying to breathe normally again, you arse!"

His upper lip curled in response. "Perhaps if you were in better shape…"

"Oh, like _you_ could run any farther than I could without getting winded," Hermione grumbled.

"Well, I would certainly do it without whinging," he remarked, snapping his book shut and turning to look down at her. "What I am not certain of, though, is whether any pursuers of yours will be willing to take a mutual rest before resuming their attempt to kill you."

With a long, suffering sigh, the girl forced herself back onto her feet and steadied herself with one hand against the back of his chair. When he lifted an eyebrow in question, she cleared her throat. "I know you have a valid point, but if I run any longer tonight, my knee is likely to give out and I'll be limping for days. _If_ I don't pass out first."

The man gave a stiff nod and then conjured a glass, which he quickly filled with a silent _Aguamenti_. After handing it to the girl and waiting while she consumed the water, he gestured toward the other side of the room where a few brooms were stacked against the wall. "When you feel you are capable of respiration again, you may skip to the latter half of your punishment."

"You know, I only let one of those stinging hexes past on purpose," she grimaced. "And I _did_ apologize for all of them."

"Hence why I shall allow you to suspend the remainder of your sentence til next week," Snape replied smugly.

A moment later, the young witch let out a deep breath and slowly ambled toward the brooms. Selecting the one which appeared the safest, she quickly mounted it and then shakily rose toward the ceiling. "Do I have to do all fifteen laps?"

"Oh, you'll do fifteen," he answered, standing from his chair. "Of that, there is no question."

"Fine," she muttered under her breath before setting off in a hesitant pace about the perimeter of the massive room.

"Are you under the impression that we will be here until the weekend?" Severus shouted. "Faster!"

Gritting her teeth, the girl did as instructed and increased her speed significantly. When she felt the broom begin to wobble slightly, she squeezed her eyes shut, gripped the stick more tightly, and murmured softly, "Intent and focus. Intent and focus."

"Eyes need to be open at all times!"

Hermione let out an aggravated groan and threw open her lids just in time to see that a large stone pillar had appeared suddenly in front of her. Her heart leaping into her throat, she reacted instinctually by rolling to the side. When the broom moved with her, and she was safely past the obstacle, she let out a surprised cry of relief.

On the ground, the dark-haired wizard let out his own nervous breath and then cleared his throat as he watched her all but glide to a stop. "You've only completed half a pass."

Giving a slow nod, the Gryffindor returned to the quicker pace, repeated her mantra in her head as she kept her eyes peeled for any other obstacles the Room saw fit to provide her. The first half dozen pillars she avoided flawlessly, but she passed so closely under a low-hanging beam that she could feel her head skimming beneath it.

"Granger – "

"I know!" she screeched, her heart pounding in her ears. "I second-guessed myself."

Severus nodded as he folded his arms and stared up at her. "If you could, try to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"It won't!" the young woman cried as she sped around to do her sixth lap of the area.

After he watched her successfully navigate through the course another time, the wizard withdrew his wand from his sleeve and silently sent a Stinging Hex in her direction.

An awful shout sounded as it hit its mark, and the broom went careening into a tailspin. Panicking, Hermione could not regain control of the vehicle and slipped off of it shortly before it collided with the next pillar. Realizing that she did not have time enough to focus on casting an _Arresto Momentum_, she squawked in terror and slammed her eyes shut, preparing herself for the brutal impact.

Before she could hit the ground, however, she felt the charm wash over her body was gently guided down to the padded floor. When she trusted herself to open her eyes again, she found herself staring up at the Slytherin Head, who bore a disappointed expression as he had his arms folded to his chest.

"Danger does not only lurk in the sky," he chided before extending his hand to her. "It comes from below as well."

"I suppose a little warning is too much to ask," the girl sputtered, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

"I'll be sure to pass your request along to the Dark Lord," Snape smirked. "I'm certain he'll be quite keen on the idea."

Blushing slightly, the witch tugged on her sleeve. "I don't see why he wouldn't."

"Indeed," the man remarked, before gesturing toward the wall. "That being said, I would suggest fetching another broom. You haven't completed your assigned laps yet."

Muttering loudly, the brunette stalked off in that direction and snatched the nearest one. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear _you_ were trying to do me in."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

At the sound of loud voices, Hermione looked up from her spot on the Common Room sofa and saw a few members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team beginning to stumble through the portrait hole. The faces of their two Beaters, Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote, looked exceptionally morose, and the young witch found herself rising from her seat in concern. She knew they had only gone out to the pitch about an hour or so before as Harry had cancelled their usual Friday night Defense session in favor of getting in an extra team practice before their match against Hufflepuff the next afternoon.

"Imelda!" she called out, spying the reserve Beater behind the much bulkier boys. "What's happened?"

"Potter," the younger witch snapped grumpily. "That's what happened."

As her teammates grumbled their agreement before disappearing into their dormitory, Hermione shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I know he's your friend and savior of the Wizarding World and all," Imelda replied, "and that I shouldn't say anything bad about him as a teammate and captain, but he's a fecking idiot sometimes."

The older girl snorted in spite of the situation and offered a small smile. "I completely understand, but what is it this time?"

"He wasn't paying attention to what he was doing," the fourth-year explained. "He got distracted or something and wasn't exactly looking as he opened up the Bludger chest. No one was ready yet because he had told us all to organize by our positions and talk through what we needed to work on tonight, so when the Bludgers came blasting out of the chest, we didn't know enough to get out of the way and Katie took one of them directly to the knee."

"Oh my god!" Hermione gasped, covering her mouth. "Is she alright?"

The girl shook her head. "Not really. Pomfrey says it shattered the kneecap and fractured both leg bones. She'll be good as new in a few days, but obviously can't play tomorrow."

"Where's everyone else?"

Imelda sighed. "Well, Potter wanted to keep practice going, but no one really wanted to listen to him at the moment. We all went with Katie to the Hospital Wing, but Pomfrey shooed us out just now. I think Harry had to go to McGonagall to explain what happened, and Ginny is taking Dean back out to the pitch with Demelza for some practice since he'll have to sub in tomorrow. Ron refused to help him practice, so after a giant screaming match, Ginny just opted to take McLaggen instead. Ron's probably under Lavender's skirt by now."

Wincing at the imagery, Hermione thanked the girl for explaining and then shifted on her feet. Part of her wanted to check with Madam Pomfrey to see if there was anything she could do, but she knew the mediwitch would only send her away to make use of her day off. She also wanted to find Harry, but knew that Professor McGonagall was likely in midst of shouting at him. She could not interrupt Ginny without facing her wrath, and there was no way in hell that she wanted to go looking for Won-won and Lavvy-Poo.

With a deep sigh, the witch sank back against the cushions and listened to the complaints of the other occupants of the common room dissipate as everyone gradually went up to bed. Harry appeared briefly, but ignored her greeting as he sped through the room and up the stairs, so she remained on the couch until the portrait door finally swung open to reveal the rest of the team.

"Dean, just let it go!" Ginny hissed as Demelza and Cormac slipped past her and went toward their separate dormitories. "It doesn't matter!"

"_I_ think it does," the boy argued. "He's practically _obsessed_ with you!"

"He is _not_!" the redhead snapped.

"Then why is he always staring at you?" Dean protested, folding his arms.

His girlfriend threw her hands in the air. "He _isn't_! You're completely over-reacting! He's my _friend_! That's all we are!"

"He'd be more than that if it were up to him."

"Which it isn't, even _if_ that were true!" Ginny cried before shaking her head. "Would you just stop, Dean? Now isn't the time for you to get all caveman jealous! We have to play tomorrow, and nothing's going to work right if you spend the whole time glaring at Harry."

"Gin-"

"No!" She shouted, yanking her arm away from him. "I'm going to bed, and you are, too! Good night! I hope you pull your head out of your arse before the match tomorrow, because if you don't, you'll be the next one in the infirmary!"

As Dean stared after her retreating form, Hermione scrambled up from the sofa and rushed after angry roommate.

"Ginny!" she called out once she reached the room.

"I don't want to talk about it, 'Mione," the redhead sniffled as she began stripping out of her Quidditch gear. "I need to shower and sleep."

"But…" the older girl trailed off briefly when the bathroom door was slammed in her face, but then yanked it open and moved into the room.

"Hermione!" Ginny shouted in surprise, yanking a towel off the rack and wrapping it around her body. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to talk because I have been sitting downstairs wondering just what the hell has been going on for the past hour and a half. Ron isn't speaking to me, and Harry isn't either tonight, apparently, so it's going to be you!" the brunette stated forcefully as she leaned against the sink. "I heard what happened to Katie, so you don't need to explain that, but what the hell happened between you and Dean? You were all over each other before practice, and now you're threatening him with physical injury!"

"I did not!" the younger witch protested as tears began forming in her eyes.

"'Or you'll be the next one in the infirmary'," Hermione repeated with a raised brow. "It certainly sounded like it to me."

Her friend grimaced and hung her head. "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that if he doesn't pay attention in the game, he'll probably end up getting hurt. Players get hurt even when they _are_ focused on the game."

"Well, you should probably explain that to Dean, because I thought you meant you would –"

"I'm not talking to him any more tonight!" Ginny exclaimed, tightening her towel against her frame.

The brunette narrowed her gaze. "Why? Because he thinks Harry fancies you? Didn't you tell him that you don't –"

"I _tried_ to tell him, and I _thought_ he understood," she replied bitterly, "but apparently he didn't because he's still spouting off about him!"

"Did you ask him not to?"

"YES!" the girl hissed. "I told him that Harry was still my friend, but he doesn't care. He's still coming up with ridiculous accusations about him!"

"You mean about Harry being obsessed with you?"

Ginny nodded emphatically. "Yeah. And now Dean is claiming that that's the reason Katie's in hospital. He's claiming that was why Harry was so distracted."

"What?"

The redhead sighed and perched against the edge of the bathtub in defeat. "He's saying that Harry was so busy mooning after me that he didn't pay attention to what he was doing."

"Is that true?" Hermione asked cautiously as images of Harry absently staring at the couple appeared at the forefront of her mind.

"No!" Ginny spat, blinking away tears. "How could it _possibly_ be true? Harry couldn't even stand me for years, and suddenly he's so head over heels that he can't complete simple, everyday tasks? I don't think so. Dean's just being a stupid prat, and I don't know how much longer I can take it."

Her roommate's eyes widened as she quickly moved to sit atop the closed lid of the commode. "What? I thought you loved him?"

"I do," the girl mumbled as fat tears rolled down her cheeks, "but if he's just going to tell me who I can and cannot be friends with, then he can just sod off."

Hermione took in a deep breath as she slid onto the side of the tub and slipped an arm about her crying friend. As soon as was possible, she knew she needed to talk to Harry.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As Saturday morning's staff meeting dragged on, Severus allowed his thoughts to wander toward his young partner. For months, that particular title which Minerva had given to the girl had grated at his nerves, but lately he had recognized just how true it was. Neither of them had ever considered such an arrangement prior to being forced together, and they had both looked upon it with disdain and misery at its outset. If one were to completely ignore the first few months of its existence, however, he could see that the relationship was not without its benefits to either party.

Granted, he would always adamantly believe that student-teacher affairs were highly inappropriate, but he had meant it when he claimed that he had not seen her as his student in some time. In fact, he was quite surprised to note that whenever her name was brought up – as it often was whenever two or more members of staff were in the same room – the mental images it elicited were no longer those of the large-toothed, bushy-headed, gangly twelve year old with her hand desperately waving in the air as it had been in the past. He still saw her as an intelligent, determined, and driven individual, but instead of the child, he associated her name with the strong, capable, and magnanimous young woman he now knew her to be.

It had become near impossible for him to include Hermione with any assessment or consideration made about the rest of her peers. Frankly, he was mildly relieved that he no longer had to mark her essays, since he knew he would constantly have to remind himself to hold her to the same standards as he would the rest of the students of her year. It had become hard for him to envision her as only just having reached her majority, for she had faced far more trials in a short time than most people would encounter in their entire lives, and she had reacted better and accomplished much more than witches or wizards three times her age.

For the most part, she did not behave like a normal seventeen-year-old girl. Her hormones appeared to function as was expected of an individual who had recently completed puberty, but he considered her to be far more rational and focused than others of her age. She was arguably more clear-headed than he had been at that stage of his life.

_Perhaps even more than I am now_. Snape let out a slow breath as he reflected upon how his thoughts had changed in the short week since he had shared his mother's story with her. Having had time to think about it, he could see now that Minerva had been correct in that regard as well.

Hermione, though exceptionally young, was a witch of great fortitude. He knew that she would stand up to him when it was necessary – and sometimes when it was not – and would fight like a hellion to rise above any challenges that confronted her. She was remarkably compassionate and forgiving – even when he felt she should not be – but he could no longer imagine her ever cowering before him as his mother had done before his father. Furthermore, she appeared to have been raised in a home where both parents acted as equals as opposed to the traditional pureblood drivel of female inferiority that had been forcibly stuffed into his mother's head.

Hermione Granger was no Eileen Prince. He felt like an idiot for having not recognized it before, and the longer he dwelled upon the idea, the more absurd it seemed. They could not be more different. His mother had been foolish and naïve, and had accepted and eventually succumbed to her misery. But Hermione was strong. The more he worked with her, producing challenge after challenge, the more he knew it was true. Though she may doubt it herself – and Filius would forever protest it as a mistake – he knew exactly why the Hat had seen fit to put her in Gryffindor above the other houses.

Severus was not the least bit ashamed to admit it: he flat-out admired her. Additionally, he was sorry that he had allowed his guilt and self-loathing to cloud his perception of the young witch. Categorizing her with his mother because they had both been victimized had not only been wrong, but incredibly insulting as well. His doing so had all but negated what he had told her – that he did not actually see her as a victim who was incapable of managing without assistance – and he was angry with himself that he had not realized it sooner.

And while Minerva had attempted to impart upon him that there was a difference between himself and his father, it truly had been little more than words until Hermione had spoken them. She had reminded him of the foremost aspect of action, whether it be magical or non: _intent_. He had never wanted to hurt her, and had only done so either on accident or because he had to in order to save her from a worse fate.

He knew he that he would undoubtedly have to harm her again in the near future – and likely she knew as well – but he vowed to continue doing everything he could to make it up to her. When the war was over, and the Dark Lord was permanently terminated, he would do his best to give her anything she desired. Until then, however, the world was only going to grow darker, and they would both need to put aside any feelings of guilt or embarrassment that could further bog them down. They needed to be able to work together and to communicate in order to make it through the mess.

Snape closed his eyes and then tilted his head slightly as he again considered how far they come as a pair. Six months ago, she had been nothing more than his student and a pseudo-Order member. Now, she had essentially become his friend, his apprentice, his advisee, his confidante, his co-conspirator, and his lover. She truly was his partner in every sense of the word, and he knew that he needed to do a far better job of treating her as such.

_Six months._ Parting his mouth in mild disbelief, the wizard quickly redid his calculations and then widened his eyes briefly. On one hand, he could recall the binding ceremony as though it had merely been the night prior, but on the other, it had felt as though they had lived half a dozen years since then. As difficult as it was for him to fathom, Monday would mark six months from the night he would forever regret, and he suddenly found himself at a loss. It was not, by any means, a pleasant anniversary, but it was an anniversary of their partnership all the same. _And if we're to focus more on the present than the beginning, does that necessitate its observance?_

"Severus?"

The sound of his own name suddenly yanked him from his musings, and the Slytherin Head found himself the center of attention. Squaring his shoulders, he met the Deputy Headmistress's questioning gaze. "Yes, Minerva?"

"You _have_ been listening, haven't you?" she smirked while the two elderly witches on either side of her snickered softly.

"Of course I have," he grumbled, folding his arms.

"So you agree it's a good idea, then?" she pressed eagerly.

_Fucking hell_. _What idea?_ Clearing his throat, he responded with a slow affirmative, hoping to draw any clues from the other members of staff.

"It's settled then," McGonagall stated matter-of-factly before turning her attention back to the Headmaster. "That's the only thing I needed to discuss, Albus."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore smiled. "With that, I say we should adjourn and reconvene before much longer at the Quidditch pitch. I imagine it will be an exciting match."

"That it will!" Pomona stated cheerfully, nudging her neighbor in the side. "Wouldn't you agree, Min?"

The Gryffindor Head nodded as she reached for her teacup. "I suppose it will, yes. Care to make a friendly wager as to the outcome?"

"Now, now, now," the pudgy witch laughed, shaking her head. "My Hufflepuffs have been doing exceptionally well this season, but I haven't forgotten you have Potter as Seeker."

Watching them banter calmly while he frantically ran through every possible scenario as to what it was he had just pledged his support, Snape gave a disgusted sneer. "She does also happen to have Weasley as Keeper."

As Minerva met his eyes with a pointed glare, Pomona snorted merrily and patted her friend on the shoulder before standing from her chair. "In that case, Min, put me down for a bottle of Blishen's."

Pleased with his minor victory, Severus calmly picked up his own cup and glanced about the emptying room. When it was vacant save for himself and the witch seated across from him, he raised it toward his lips. "Exactly what is it I've agreed to, then?"

"I knew you weren't listening." A dark smirk crossed his colleague's face as she took a sip of her own tea. "Well, as you know, tomorrow is St. Valentine's Day, which has caused a number of the staff to be concerned about the… _attention_ students may be giving one another. Therefore, we all – including yourself – have decided it would be a good idea for the Heads of House to provide a seminar of sorts for the older students. A brief bit of sex education, if you will."

Snape blanched immediately, jumping and cursing loudly as he spilled the remainder of his hot beverage over his hand. Shaking the liquid from his hand, he fixed her with a deadly scowl. "You decided _WHAT_?"

"Oh calm down, Severus!" she cried between fits of laughter. Dabbing at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe, McGonagall shook her head. "You should see your face. No, that isn't what you agreed to, I promise. We just mentioned that we thought staff patrols should be extended tomorrow night in light of the holiday."

Sucking in a deep breath, the wizard willed his heart to climb out of his stomach and then adjusted his robes. "I see. Well, then, in that case, I do actually agree."

"I thought you might," she smirked, rising from her chair. "Now, we have time for a brief session if you so desire before our presence is required at the pitch."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, _come_ on! That was an easy block even it is snowing, Ron! Stop being an idiot!"

Hermione grimaced as the Quaffle soared through the middle hoop after having passed right over the redhead's left shoulder, and then glanced sheepishly over to the dark-haired witch who had been verbally abusing him since the Hufflepuff Chasers had managed to score almost a hundred points in the past hour.

"Ugghhh!" Katie Bell screeched in frustration, throwing up her hands. "If he doesn't get his act together –"

"It's okay, Won-won!" Lavender shouted loudly from several rows in front of them. "I think you're doing wonderful!"

"I swear, if she keeps that up, I'm going to throw my crutch at her."

Hermione giggled loudly as she re-applied her warming charm. "I wouldn't stop you."

"Who would?" the seventh-year muttered grumpily, flopping back down on the bench and tightening the collar of her coat. "I hope Potter hurries this up because the weather doesn't appear to be letting up any time soon."

The younger girl smiled tightly as she took in the snow swirling rapidly about them. It made it difficult to see from the stands, so she was certain it had to be even worse from the air. "How's your leg, then?"

"What?" Katie asked, yanking her attention from the match just long enough to realize what had been asked. "Oh, it's, erm, fine. Still hurts a bit to stand on, but – Damn it, Dean! You should have had that one! – but Madam Pomfrey says that should go away by Monday."

"Oh," Hermione nodded. "Well, that's something."

"I guess," her Housemate muttered gloomily. "It's still bloody frustrating. I should be out there instead of sitting on my arse. Dean's never played an actual match before, and the worst of it is that had this happened at any practice but the one yesterday, I would be perfectly fine to play. Madam Pomfrey even said so."

"I'm sorry," the younger girl said gently. "And I know Harry must feel terrible."

"Oh, I know," Katie nodded without removing her eyes from the snowy sky above the pitch. "He looked just about as ready to pass out as I was last night. It was completely unintentional, though, I know. Mistakes happen and, well, I wouldn't be nearly as pissed off if the timing had just been different. Even if it had been a different match, but this… this is pretty much the match that could make or break our chances for the House Cup. If we lose, we're tied again with Slytherin."

"Yeah, I suppose that's true," Hermione mumbled. Inwardly, she gave an exasperated groan. The girl could have very well been permanently impaired had she been treated by a less qualified medical professional and yet the only thing she was concerned with was the team's win record.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… What is he _doing_?"

The girl glanced at Katie and then followed her gaze to where Harry was floating almost in one place while the Hufflepuff Seeker shot past in pursuit of the Snitch.

"Potter, pay attention! Get going!" his teammate shrieked. "Summerby's nearly got it!"

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione whispered, unable to take her eyes off of her stationary friend. She had not yet had a chance to talk to him about Ginny since he had beaten her to breakfast and had called the team out to the pitch two hours before the match even started.

"Oh, shite," Katie stammered. "Ron, Bludger!"

"Won-won, look out!" Lavender screamed.

Momentarily, Hermione's eyes snapped toward her other friend in time to see him swerve to narrowly avoid being hit by the bewitched iron ball, which then bounced off the goal post and passed harmlessly beneath the redhead. Letting out the breath she did not realize she had been holding, she rolled her eyes at Lavender's exaggerated response of slumping over in her seat and covering her face.

"Shite, shite, _shite_," the injured Chaser whispered as she began rising from her seat. "Potter! Move!"

Hermione, along with the majority of the Gryffindor stands, suddenly looked toward their Seeker who appeared completely oblivious to the Bludger speeding directly for him.

"Harry!" she shrieked, launching to her feet, joining in with the rest of her House as they shouted in warning.

Having spotted the imminent threat, Jimmy Peakes streaked through the sky with his bat extended toward the projectile, but he could only move so fast. At the last possible second, Harry noticed the Bludger coming toward his face and pushed higher, only to have the tail of his Firebolt and his foot receive the impact of the iron ball. Screams erupted from a number of the stands as the boy began plummeting with his broom, but fortunately, Jimmy had been close enough to grab hold of his arm and heaved Harry onto his broom.

A cheer rose up from the Gryffindor stands, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle to pause play while the two boys drifted gently down to the turf. Hermione waited just long enough to see Madam Pomfrey hustling out to greet them before pushing her way through the crowd of her Housemates to sprint down the several stories of wooden steps. She nearly slipped on the last flight, but did not allow herself more than a half moment's pause to steady herself before charging through the snowbanks in the direction of the castle.

Upon finally making it inside, she sped immediately toward the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were settling Harry onto one of the beds.

"Oh, Miss Granger!" Poppy called, glancing up at her. "Fetch me a pain reliever and a bottle of Skele-Gro just in case it isn't readily mendable."

Nodding, the young witch hustled into the storeroom and quickly located the necessary items. Reaching the side of the bed, she glanced down to see that Harry had his eyes closed and a dreamy expression on his face.

"I put him under a light sleeping charm," the Healer explained. "I've found it works better than a calming draught for short periods of time and has no risk of interfering with the Skele-Gro should I need to administer it."

"I see," Hermione murmured. She felt torn between her concern for Harry and the desire to absorb all details of the healing process, so she opted to hold the unconscious boy's hand while her eyes followed the mediwitch's work.

"Minerva, if you wanted to return to the match, Granger and I have it under control," Poppy muttered.

"Oh, well," McGonagall stammered, removing her winter cap and shaking the snow from it. "I don't doubt that, but I know by the time I manage to hike all the way out there again, someone will have caught the Snitch. Unfortunately, I hold little hope that it will not be the talented Mr. Summerby who does it."

"You never know," the nurse shrugged as she finished her examination of Harry's leg. "Should be set to rights simple enough. Pay attention, Granger, as Quidditch season brings in a lot of these. Now, who's the reserve Seeker for Gryffindor?"

"Finnigan," Minerva replied, eyeing the woman's work as well.

"You're joking." Poppy glanced up in surprise before returning to her work. "I would've figured him for a Beater."

"Or a saboteur," the Deputy Headmistress agreed with a smirk. "I was quite shocked myself when Potter brought me the reserve roster."

"He was quite good, actually," Hermione piped up. "I had to sit through the try-outs. Not as good as Harry, of course, but still good."

The older women made matching noises of acknowledgement before settling into a determined silence. A few minutes later, Harry began to stir, causing his friend to tighten her grip on his hand.

"Mmmm-Mione?" the boy mumbled, blinking open his eyes. "What about… the match?"

"For Merlin's sake," she sighed with a roll of her eyes. As McGonagall snorted in amusement and was about to respond to the question, several voices sounded in the corridor, growing steadily louder until the infirmary doors burst open to reveal the soggy, red-faced, and rather winded members of the Gryffindor team.

"I take it Summerby finally put the lot of you out of your misery, then," Minerva quipped, folding her arms to her chest.

An agonized groan escaped Harry as his teammates began sheepishly nodding.

"I swear, Professor," Seamus mumbled; his ears turning even pinker then they had been from the cold wind, "the Snitch practically went right to him when Hooch blew the whistle to start again."

"How're you feeling, Harry?" Ginny asked, immediately stepping up to her roommate's elbow.

"Incredibly frustrated," he mumbled, rubbing his face. "If Slytherin beats Hufflepuff next month, we're done for."

"No kidding," Ron grumbled sadly, as he moved to stand at the foot of the bed. "You should've heard them cheering. They were louder than Hufflepuff."

"They always are when we lose," his sister reminded him, before looking back to Harry with a smirk. "I meant about your foot."

"He'll be fine," Madam Pomfrey declared, tapping his freshly-healed limb. "Though, I'm sure that'll teach him to pay better attention on the pitch, hmm?"

Grimacing, Harry nodded and then looked toward Ron. "The Firebolt?"

"More like firewood now," Dean replied, earning a quick glare from his girlfriend.

"Erm, yeah, mate," Ron nodded. "You'll probably have to send for a new one."

As Harry grumbled loudly, Poppy cleared her throat and gestured toward the crowd of tired, sweaty players. "Alright, you've all seen he's still alive. Be gone with you, then. Showers before anything else, methinks."

Once the team had finally left after giving Harry all of their well wishes, with Professor McGonagall on their heels, Hermione turned to her mentor. "Did you want me to leave as well?"

"Of course not," the matron nurse exclaimed. "You'd just have to turn right back around for your shift in an hour anyway. Now, Potter – the bones I've just mended need to set and strengthen before you can go standing on them again. You're going to have to stay right there for at least an hour, and then you can let me know how it feels. Understand?"

"Yes, Madam," the boy replied, nodding his head.

"Granger, you're welcome to sit with him if you would like," Poppy added. "I'll just be in my office finishing some inventory request forms, and whenever you're ready, go ahead and grab a meal from the kitchens and then you can get started on brewing the cough suppressor and fever reducers. After the weather at today's match, I assume I'll need quite a bit of surplus on hand."

"Of course," Hermione agreed. When the Healer had disappeared into her office, the younger witch collapsed upon the stool nearest Harry's bed and gave him a small smirk. "Hi."

Her friend snorted bitterly under his breath. "Hi."

"You're really not in any pain?" she asked, eyeing his exposed and bruised limb with concern.

Harry shrugged as he pulled himself up into a seated position. "A bit, yeah."

"Did you want another pain reliever? Madam Pomfrey only gave you one, and since she didn't have to use the Skele-Gro, you can have another."

"No, it's alright," he sighed. "Honestly, I've had worse."

"Well, I suppose that's true," the witch mumbled, peering at her hands. After a long moment of awkward silence, she cleared her throat and met his eyes. "Harry, do you know what happened up there?"

"Testing my memory, are you?" he asked, raising one eyebrow. "I was looking for the Snitch and didn't see the Bludger coming until it was too late. That's what happened."

"You didn't see the other Seeker take off after the Snitch?"

The wizard frowned and scratched his head. "I saw that happen several times."

"I meant when he did it about five minutes before you got hit," she clarified.

"Oh," he murmured. After thinking for a moment, he shrugged. "I guess I didn't, but it was bloody hard to see up there anyway. I swear it was difficult to make out the end of my broom at times."

When she grunted quietly in understanding, Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. "It was probably nothing, then. I know how adept you are at spotting the Snitch usually, but I guess I underestimated just how bad the visibility was up there."

"Okay," he responded slowly, "but _why_ were you asking?"

Grimacing, she moved her gaze to the pillow poking out from behind his back. "I guess I was just concerned. I mean with what happened last night with Katie –"

"I didn't _mean_ to do that!" he interrupted. "You have to believe me, Hermione."

"Of course, I do," the girl assured him, grabbing his hand. "And the team does, too. Seriously, Katie's only mad that she had to sit out the match."

"Then what _did_ you mean?"

Closing her eyes briefly, the girl squeezed his hand. "You were distracted last night and I thought you looked like you had been again this afternoon because you weren't really moving at all for several minutes so I guess I just got worried that something was wrong."

"What do you mean I wasn't moving?" he asked grumpily.

"You were just sort of hovering in one spot for a while."

Harry shook his head. "Maybe for a minute or two. I was trying to see through the snow."

"I don't know how long it was," she admitted, "but it was long enough to bother Katie, especially when Elias Summerby was after the Snitch, and you weren't."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you or Katie," the boy snapped, crossing his arms, "but neither of you were up there, were you? I only remember pausing for a few minutes because I was trying to peer through the bloody storm to see if I could find any trace of the Snitch. I watched Ginny and Dean working their way toward the hoops for a moment, and then I looked up to see the Bludger coming straight at me. That's it. That's all that happened. No need for you to be concerned."

Hermione swallowed hesitantly and then scratched her eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Harry, I just… well, I guess I just was thinking too much about last night, and I heard Dean say that you were distracted by Ginny when you –"

"He's lying!" the wizard growled. "I wasn't—"

"Then what happened?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond and then slightly deflated. "I don't know. I really don't know. I told everyone to get in their groups while I went to fetch the rest of the equipment, and they were still talking when I got back so I started to get things set up, and then the next thing I know everyone's shouting and screaming, and Katie was on the ground crying."

"So it could be possible that –"

"No!" he ground out; his expression darkening. "I wasn't paying attention. That's all. Katie's going to be fine, and she forgives me. There isn't anything that you can fix, and there isn't anything wrong with me! End of story, so just _leave_ it _alone_!"

The girl blinked in surprise and then flicked her gaze toward the mediwitch's office. Standing from the stool, she straightened the ends of her scarf. "Well, Madam Pomfrey will be in to check on you soon. I'll just… I have things to get done, so I'll see you later."

Without meeting her friend's eyes, Hermione quickly strode out of the infirmary and made her way toward the staircase that led down to the kitchens. Pausing at the head of the stairs, she cast one last glance in the direction from which she had come and then shook her head. Something was definitely wrong with Harry, and she was sure as hell not going to leave it alone.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hours later, after she had finished bottling and shelving nearly four dozen doses of each brew, Hermione trudged up to Gryffindor tower. Spotting none of her friends besides Neville in the common room, the witch managed a quick greeting to the boy before climbing the stairs into the girls' dormitory.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're back!" Mattie exclaimed upon her arrival. "I have to do rounds, but didn't want to leave her here."

"What? Leave who?" the younger witch asked, peering around the girl to spot Ginny curled into a ball on her bed. She could hear the sniffling from across the room. "What happened?"

"She wouldn't tell me," the blonde shrugged, "but my guess is it has to do with a certain tall, dark, and handsome wizard. She's been like that since I got back from supper."

Hermione sighed and stepped out of her roommate's way. "I'll deal with it."

"Thanks," Mattie gave a relieved smile. "Good luck."

_Yeah. No kidding._ The brunette sucked in a steadying breath and glared at the ceiling for several seconds before crossing the room and perching on her own bed. "Gin?"

"What do _you_ want?"

_Is everyone going to snap at me today_? Hermione rubbed her face and leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

"Everything," the redhead mumbled, staring blankly at the wall.

Biting back the urge to correct her friend, the older girl crossed her arms. "Define _everything_."

When the youngest Weasley did nothing but pull the pillow over her face, Hermione sighed aloud. "Merlin's sake, Gin. Did Dean propose again or something?"

"No!" came the muffled cry.

"Then what _did_ he do?"

With a growl, Ginny appeared from beneath the pillow and glared at her. "He acted like an arse; _that's_ what he did! I told him to stop making comments about Harry, and he wouldn't!"

"The comment about the broom?" Hermione asked. "No offense, but –"

"Not just _that_ comment!" the younger girl interrupted, pushing up onto her bottom. "After supper, I overheard him talking to Seamus about Harry getting hurt, and when Seamus mentioned that it had been a bit ironic, _he_ said it was almost poetic justice!"

"Oh." The brunette blinked for a moment before shifting on the bed. "So what did you say?"

"What did _I_ say?" Ginny repeated, sitting taller. "I told him it was bloody over; _that's_ what I said!"

Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "You broke up with him?"

"You're damn right I did," the redhead nodded proudly.

Her older roommate swallowed slowly. "And how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling…." She slowly sank in on herself and pulled the pillow to her chest as she laid down again. "Fecking miserable; _that's_ how I feel."

Having fully expected the response, the brunette witch nodded and moved to join the girl on the other bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ginny shook her head and then turned into her friend's shoulder. "Can I just cry for a while instead?"

Hermione muttered an affirmative, wrapping her arms around her roommate. While listening to several minutes' worth of sniffling, she tried to categorize all of her own thoughts and realized that she had not thought about Draco in more than a day. Determining that he needed to be her priority for the time being, she decided that trying to figure out Harry could wait until after the weekend. She could not risk being distracted during her meeting with the Slytherin, lest she bollocks it up for real.

"Do you know what the worst part is?" the ginger-haired witch finally managed.

"What's that?" her friend asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Clearing her throat, Ginny murmured, "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day."


	61. Rendezvous

**A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews! And thank you to those of you who remembered it was my birthday last Friday. I did not expect that!**

**Lots of stuff going on here, so I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 61**

Hermione unconsciously held her breath as she crept disillusioned through the darkened corridors. Severus had cautioned her about the extended staff patrols that evening, and so she had set out earlier than she would have normally to give her enough time to seek cover if need be. At first she had questioned whether they should meet another night, but had realized the stupidity of it before he even had the chance to reply. They were working on Draco's terms, and they had to make every effort not to scare him away.

It had to be tonight, and how they proceeded depended heavily on the Malfoy heir. If he were using this meeting as just another chance to feel her out, they would play along and subtly attempt to sway him toward approaching Severus. On the other hand, if had already come to that point on his own, the Order spy was on alert, ready to abandon his rounds and join them at a moment's notice.

Letting out a low breath, the witch peered around the corner to see that hallway was clear. As nervous as she was to meet with the boy, she was still grateful that she was not stuck in her room with a sniveling roommate, or in the common room with a moping Dean, an argumentative Harry, or aggressively snogging Ron and Lavender.

Upon reaching the designated door, she glanced both ways down the corridor before raising her hand to knock. A second later, the door opened to allow her into the room.

"Granger," he sneered, shutting the door.

"Malfoy," she returned coolly. "If this is going to go the same way as last week –"

Draco shook his head as he leaned against the wall. "Look, I'm sorry for offending you. I can only imagine how I would feel if I had to boink McGonagall on a regular basis."

"Oh god," she groaned, glaring up at the ceiling. "I really did _not_ need that imagery."

"Oh, like I needed the picture of Snape's pale, bony arse bobbing up and down on top of _you_ in _my_ head?" he grumbled, folding his arms.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she let out a calm breath. "He wants to help you."

The wizard wrinkled his nose in disdain and looked away. After a long moment, he cleared his throat. "What did you mean when you said he would be the only one you sleep with? Did he command –"

"No," she interrupted, sinking into a chair. "It's not like _that_. It's actually the curse itself. Apparently it's meant to prevent the victim from ever producing children that are not the bonder's, so if I… am intimate with anyone else, it kills me."

The boy raised his lip in disgust and stared at the wall briefly. "So is that why you hexed McSlaggin'?"

An unexpected laugh escaped the witch as she glanced up at him. "Is that what you call him? That's brilliant."

"Of course it is," he smirked. "I thought of it, didn't I?"

The Gryffindor snorted under her breath and crossed her legs. "Anyway, yes, that's why. Though I probably would have done it anyway since he deserved it."

"If it were me," Draco murmured a moment later, "I would have used an Engorgement Charm on his bollocks. It takes hours for the swelling to go down even after using the Shrinking Charm, which of course brings with it its own risks."

She raised one eyebrow. "Personal experience?"

"Not me, no." He shook his head before smiling and looking toward the floor. "Mother used it on Father once when she found out that he was seeing some young tart from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office on the side."

"_Your_ mother?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah," he replied. "Puts on a good show, doesn't she? Plays the unaffected ice queen real well in public, but if anyone ever pisses her off, they better watch their backs… or their bollocks. And believe me, she bides her time."

Hermione felt her stomach twist as she watched the look of pride in his eyes diminish into pain. Deciding to change the subject, she cleared her throat. "Did the salve work at all? Professor Snape wasn't sure that it would."

The blonde touched his forearm at the question and nodded. "It takes the pain away for a while. Let me sleep a full night for the first time without Moth – well, since I've been home."

Her ears perked at the slip-up, and she was about to ask a question when she was interrupted.

"Do you have any more of the stuff or not?" he snapped. "I'm nearly out."

Suppressing the urge to react with surprise, the girl shook her head. "Not with me, no. I'm sure he has more, though. If not, he said it only takes a few hours to make."

Draco took in a deep breath and leaned his head back against the wall. "Alright. Fetch him, then."

"For the salve?"

"Not just for the salve," he grumbled. "For all of it. Just get him. I need to talk to him."

"Okay," she nodded, while sending off a mental patronus.

**'Yes?'**

'_He's ready. He wants to talk to you._'

**'I will be there in three minutes.'**

"He'll be here soon," Hermione stated, resting against the back of her chair.

"Merlin's pants," the boy cried as he stared at her. "You didn't even close your eyes or anything."

A small smile appeared on her face as she fiddled with the sleeves of her robes.

**'Granger. We have a furry problem tagging along. Plan B. I can delay him a moment, but if we catch the two of you together, it'll be detention. Understand?'**

"Fuck!" she snapped, launching to her feet and startling the boy.

"What?"

The witch ran a hand through her hair before shedding her outer robes and tossing them on the chair. As she began untucking her blouse from her jeans, the boy stared at her in uncertainty.

"Granger, what the –"

"Could you mess up your hair a little?" she asked, interrupting him. When he only frowned at her in confusion, she moved toward him and reached for his head, running her hands through his silky blonde hair.

"Whoa!" Draco cried, attempting to pull away from her. "Would you tell me just what the fuck you're trying to do?"

"Severus got waylaid by Lupin," Hermione explained, grabbing hold of his shirt and pulling it out from his trousers.

"And you're undressing me why?"

"Because he already thinks we're together, so he won't suspect anything else!" she murmured quickly after slapping his hands away when he tried to pull hers off of his shirt.

"Hold on!" he growled, grabbing hold of her forearms. "Exactly why does the wolf think _I'm_ shagging _you_?"

"It's your own fault, so don't get mad at me!" she snapped as she yanked out of his grasp. "Remember the first time you got me alone? He was in the hallway when we snuck back into the Great Hall. Do you think he thought you were asking me for help with Arithmancy?"

"Fuck," Draco snarled. A second later he began undoing his tie. "And why are we doing this, instead of just hiding?"

The witch flashed him a smirk. "Because we need a viable excuse for detention, don't we?"

The blonde stopped momentarily. "Please tell me that I don't actually have to kiss you."

"Not unless you care to explain to the Dark Lord why I'm dead and Professor Snape's in Azkaban," she quipped brightly.

"Then we better make this look good," he stated forcefully, magically cancelling the silencing charm before pushing into her.

"What—"

Grabbing her around the waist, he set her upon the nearest desk, pried her legs apart far enough to stand between them, and then placed her hands on his shoulders. As she stared at him in shock, he ripped the sides of her blouse apart, scattering buttons across the floor.

"Draco!" she squeaked.

The boy snickered as he unbuckled his trousers and then gave her an appraising wink. "A little on the small side, but still decent enough tits."

Hermione gasped loudly as a flush spread across her face and chest.

Placing his hands on either side of her, he leaned close to murmur, "Granger, if you can't keep quiet, we're going to get –"

"Caught?"

"Shit!" Draco hissed into her ear as they both jumped.

Her heart pounding, the girl peeked over his shoulder to see both Severus and Remus standing in the doorway. Fighting the urge to return the former's smirk, she focused on the angry expression on the Marauder's face and ducked her head against the boy's shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape purred, "do up your trousers and step away from Miss Granger."

Letting out a slow breath, the blonde did as was instructed, leaving his fake lover to quickly pull the sides of her blouse together.

"Miss Granger," he continued as he turned his dark gaze to her. "If you would, please get off of the desk and fetch your robes."

Fully aware of the Defense Instructor staring at her, Hermione slipped off of the desk and snatched at her robes. Turning her back toward the two professors, she hurriedly shrugged them on. After fastening them, she faced the men again and sidled slightly closer to Draco.

"Well, well, Lupin," the Slytherin Head murmured, folding his arms. "Twenty points apiece, wouldn't you say?"

"And detention," Remus mumbled, finally averting his eyes after seeing the blonde boy subtly slip his hand around the girl's.

"Indeed," the Potions Master nodded. "Both of you will report to my classroom at seven tomorrow evening. I have a fresh crop of flobberworms needing to be deveined, gutted, and milked."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

With a growl, Severus threw his pillow across the room and glared up at the ceiling. For nearly an hour he had been lying in bed trying to sleep and yet all he had managed to do was repeatedly run through images of a partially naked Hermione in the arrogant clutches of Draco sodding Malfoy.

When he had suggested they get caught in front of Lupin, he had not expected that they would try to make it quite so believable. While it had initially been amusing to watch the werewolf barely keep it together, the shine had worn off rather quickly upon seeing how well the two teens had played lovebirds. His jaw was still somewhat sore after having gritted his teeth at Hermione's touching, whispered farewell to the boy when they had been sent on their respective ways.

_This is ridiculous._ He knew very well they were only acting and that nothing could come of it, but he could not help but hear the primitive voice in the back of his head telling him to find the little twit and rip off his hands. Not to mention the other, even more primal desire to find her and show her just _who_ was meant to be tearing off her clothes.

"Fuck!" he snarled, rolling over onto his side and slamming his fist against the mattress. He was not supposed to be thinking like this. He was supposed to be in control of himself. He was not some randy teenaged boy needing to get his rocks off, and he was not some caveman needing to prove his masculinity.

And yet still he could not shake those thoughts. Meditation certainly was not helping, and he was reaching the point of desperation where a sleeping draught was looking rather desirable, never mind the consequences that could follow should he sleep through a summons or a student emergency.

_Perhaps she's still awake as well._ Snape grumbled as he returned to his back and wiped a hand over his face. It was late, and she had class early in the morning. _His_ class. She was probably asleep. As should he be.

_You could always check. _He blew out a long breath and folded his arms over his chest._ Oh, bloody hell. I'll check, and if she's sleeping, leave her be._

After cancelling the mental silencing charm, his eyes widened slightly at hearing the witch mulling over the conversation she had had with the young Malfoy. Discovering that she was lying awake thinking about the little prat caused another surge of jealousy and encouraged him to react without fully thinking.

**'Hermione.'**

'_Severus,_' she replied immediately; all thoughts of Draco vanishing. '_What is it?'_

**'Can you slip away?'**

_'Ginny and Mattie are both asleep so I suppose I could. Why? Is something wrong?'_

**'No… I just was…' **His brain suddenly seemed to catch up to his nether regions.** 'No, never mind.'**

_'What were you going to say?'_ Her natural curiosity had been piqued.

**'It's not important.'**

_'Well, it was important enough to unsilence my incessant monologue.'_

Snape snorted at the comment. **'I was just unable to sleep, and I thought I would see if you were awake.'**

_'Why?' _She seemed suspicious now._ 'Did you fancy a late night chat?'_

**'Not exactly,**' he groaned.

_'Erm… then what exactly did you fancy?'_

The man shook his head. **'We shouldn't be discussing this. It was inappropriate of me. Good night, Granger.'**

_'Inappropriate? Hold on – did you want me to meet you for –'_

**'Good night, Granger,'** he repeated before silencing the connection. Pulling the other pillow closer to him, he closed his eyes and attempted once again to sleep. Within a few seconds, the silver otter danced impatiently across his consciousness. Whether it was because he was actually concerned that something could have happened, or because he was just a glutton for punishment, he answered her call.

**'Yes?'**

_'Don't ignore me when you're the one who started this! You can't just hint at something like that when you're the one telling _me_ I have to keep my bloody hormones in check and then leave me to deal with it! I'm having a hard enough time falling asleep as it is, and I don't need the added strain of having to occlude my own thoughts. So either meet me in the Room of Requirement, or sod off!'_

Severus let out a slow breath as his cock voiced its opinion, and then tapped his fingertips on top of his comforter for a handful of seconds. '**Ten minutes.'**

_'And bring the sodding potion this time!_'

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione was a bundle of nervous energy as she paced back and forth as she waited for him in the Room of Requirement. They had never met like this before, and she was not sure how she was supposed to react. Her head snapped up at the sound of the door opening, and she felt the flutter of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. As Severus slipped into the room, she gave him a crooked smile before bashfully ducking her head.

"You should take this now," he murmured, holding out the vial.

Quirking her lips, she asked, "A bit impatient, are we?"

The wizard snorted softly, but chose not to comment as he cast aside his outer robes.

After ingesting the sweet liquid, the witch set the empty flask on the low bookshelf beside her and then glanced up at him. When he merely stood in place, she tilted her head and perched against the top of the bookcase. "You know, I'm going to be highly disappointed if you only called me down here to leer at me."

Smirking, Severus stepped forward until he was essentially pinning her against the wooden shelf. Placing his hands on either side of her hips, he leaned down to whisper, "I don't plan on disappointing."

The girl giggled softly as he pressed his lips against hers, and then slipped her hands over his shoulders and behind his head. As she ran her fingers through his hair, his hands moved beneath her bottom and pulled her against the significant bulge in his pajama pants. Fully opening her mouth, Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself even tighter against him.

With a rumble deep in his throat, the wizard lifted her off of the bookcase and carried her the short distance to the bed. Depositing her gently amidst the pillows, he pulled away from her lips to quickly rid her of her shirt and then immediately seized a nipple between his teeth.

"Ohh gods," she gasped, arching her back as he flicked his tongue against it.

When she gripped his torso with her thighs a moment later, he hooked his arms behind her knees and swiftly tugged her into him. Grinding his arousal against her pelvis, he kissed his way up her neck and under her jaw. As one of her hands snuck beneath the hem of his shirt, he reflexively thrust forward, catching her other hand on accident.

Hermione sucked in a quick breath as she felt the firm heat against her fingers. Biting down on her lip in consideration, she tentatively flexed her hand and rubbed two fingertips over the straining cotton of his pajamas.

Groaning in surprise, the man raised his head to meet her curious gaze. "Herm—"

"Would you like it?" she whispered.

"You don't have –"

The witch cut him off by pressing her lips to his. "I _know_ that I don't. I asked if you would _like_ it if I touched you."

Severus swallowed heavily and then enthusiastically captured her mouth. Taking that as an affirmative, she withdrew her hand from under his shirt and gradually slipped it beneath the waistbands of his pajamas and pants. He let out a low moan as she tentatively wrapped her fingers around his girth, and then magically divested himself of his clothing.

The girl squawked quietly as his member sprung free before giggling in mild embarrassment. Peering down between their bodies, she slowly ran her hand over his length. His wiry hair tickled at her skin, and she was somewhat intrigued by the velvety feel of the organ as she gently began stroking him.

"Mmmgods," he grunted, planting his knee more firmly between her legs. Holding his breath, he found himself even more aroused as he watched her face crinkle in concentration while she continued working him. After a short while, however, he grimaced and grabbed hold of her wrist to stop her.

Hermione immediately looked up at his face in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," he snorted, shaking his head before kissing her forehead. "I just… happen to still need that tonight."

"Oh." She smiled shyly, releasing his length.

Snape chuckled quietly as he removed her pajama bottoms and knickers, and then leaned over her again. Catching her lips, he trailed his hand up the inside of her thigh until reaching her center. He could feel her quivering as he started rubbing her clitoris, and it did not take very long after he inserted two fingers inside of her to bring her to her first climax.

"Severus," she panted, fisting one hand in his hair. "More… please."

The wizard sucked in a breath at the sound of his name on her lips. His cock was painfully hard after her earlier attentions, and he simultaneously felt the need to hear her say his name again as well as the need to drive away the images of the girl with Draco from his head. Growling quietly, he parted her legs enough to settle between them and wasted no time in pushing past her entrance. He managed a few slower thrusts until she pulled him closer to her, and then rapidly increased his pace.

"Oh god! Oh god! Oh god!" the girl whimpered, clutching onto him tightly as she reached another peak of pleasure. "Oh god, SEVERUS!"

Still not fully satisfied, the man seized her about the waist and rolled over onto his spine so that she was straddling him.

"Severus." Her chest was heaving as she stared down at him. "What… _what_?"

Not fully comprehending the meaning of her question, he reached up to push hair out of her face. "Do you… want to stop?"

A high-pitched laugh escaped her as she ran her hands over his chest. "Gods, no."

As Severus smiled, his hands moved slowly down from her face and neck, pausing briefly to toy with her breasts before trailing the length of her torso to grip her hips. Holding her gaze, he gently guided her still-pulsing channel over his member and relished in the soft groan that escaped her. As he repeatedly flexed his hips into her, he realized just how much he enjoyed the view provided to him by the position. Staring up at her, not only could he see her breasts jiggling and her amethyst pendant slapping against her sternum with every thrust, but he could also watch her eyelids flutter shut and mouth fall open as she lost herself to sensation.

"Ohhh, fuck," she groaned, falling against his chest when her arms eventually gave out. Tucking her head against his neck, she whispered, "Please. Severus, please."

Wrapping his arms about her frame, he held her tightly and wildly pounded into her until they both reached their final release.

"Holy shit," Hermione gasped as soon as she could manage it several minutes later.

Uncertain as to what he could say, the wizard managed an odd laugh and then wiped his face with his hand. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "I should –"

"Please don't," she whispered, lightly clenching her legs around him. "Can't you stay?"

Snape let out a sigh. "And what? Walk down to breakfast together?"

"No," the girl mumbled into his neck. "You could leave early…"

"What about your dormmates?" he asked. "If they wake up, and you're gone –"

"They'll think it's like every other time," she interrupted.

The man narrowed his eyes and attempted to look down at her. "Every other time?"

"I don't always sleep the whole night," Hermione explained. "And when I don't want to take a potion, I come here."

"And do what?"

"Duel… read… meditate… talk to myself. Whatever helps."

Severus took in an uncomfortable breath and ran his hand down her spine. "How often are you here?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's been more frequent lately. Once or twice a week, maybe."

"Hermione," he chided. "You need to sleep."

Blowing out a deep breath, she moved her hand up to his shoulder. "I know. That's why I used to sneak onto your sofa. I could always sleep there."

His gut twisted slightly at the admission, and he realized that the little willpower he had amassed to leave had vanished. Exhaling deeply, he finally lifted her off of him and, while she sighed sadly, climbed off the bed. Instead of making ready to leave, however, the wizard simply turned down the bedcovers on one side, waited until she finally moved beneath them, and then slid in beside her.

"You're going to stay?" she smiled.

Snape nodded as he slipped his arm about her waist. "I'll leave early."

Giggling under her breath, the witch laid her head against his chest and slid her hand up to his shoulder. After a moment, she yawned and closed her eyes. "Well, happy Valentine's Day, I guess."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Hermione."

The witch let out a soft groan and paused at the head of the staircase. Taking in a deep breath, she turned around to face the disheveled wizard. "Professor."

Remus grimaced briefly as he approached her. "I would like to speak to you for –"

"I'm on my way to detention," she interrupted. "Professor Snape will not be happy if I'm late."

"I can make it quick," he commented. "It's about your, erm, relationship with –"

"What about it?" the girl queried, flashing her eyes in warning.

The man paused briefly as he glanced about the empty space. "I'm not going to use his name here, and I'm not going to say anything to Harry."

"Well, thank you for that," she murmured.

Remus nodded slowly and then cleared his throat. "I'm concerned about you."

"You don't need to –"

"_Think_ about who it is you're dealing with," he hissed. "He nearly killed you!"

Hermione huffed and looked toward the floor. "He didn't mean… he feels terrible about that."

"He nearly _killed_ you," he repeated, "and you just, what, decide to take up with him?"

"He isn't the only one who's nearly killed me, now, _is_ he?" she snapped. "Harry's done it several times. _You've_ done it, for Merlin's sake. And I've forgiven both of you, haven't I?"

"Hermione –"

"No!" she growled. "You don't _know_ him. You don't know what he's been through –"

"And _you_ do?"

"I know far more than you!" the girl retorted, crossing her arms. "And I'm not about to turn my back on him just because the lot of you have done so!"

"There's a difference between not turning your back and…"

The witch narrowed her eyes as he trailed off, and then stepped further toward him. "And what?"

"Nothing," Lupin shook his head. "I don't want to yell at you, and I know that I cannot actually force you to stop. I just want you to think carefully about what it is you are doing."

"I am!" she argued. "Now, if you would excuse me…"

"Hermione, wait!" the wizard called after she had started moving back toward the stairs. "I just… I thought the two of you had ended things."

The girl exhaled slowly before glancing over her shoulder. "Perhaps we both realized that we cared for each other in the meantime."

"But he's –"

"I know exactly who he is," she replied quietly. "And despite whatever he may have done to me in the past, I know that he… actually makes me feel… like I'm… not crazy… and that I matter."

"Hermione, you –"

"Everyone else either looks to me as a victim or a counselor or… a bloody encyclopedia!" the witch hissed, gesturing with her hands. "_He_ doesn't. So go ahead and judge me all you want – everyone else certainly does – but don't expect me to walk away from the one person who actually understands me."

Remus deflated slightly in response. "Just… be careful."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Lost in her own musings regarding her declarations about Draco – or Severus, really – to Remus, Hermione startled noticeably when the classroom door suddenly slammed shut. After glancing briefly at the boy silently sitting at a table on the other side of the room, her eyes followed the Slytherin Head as he made his way toward her with a large basket.

With a subtle smirk, Snape paused in front of her and began unloading his goods. After setting out a pan full of freshly deceased flobberworms, a knife, two jars, funnel, and collection flask, he raised his eyebrows suggestively and then stepped away. As the witch grumbled beneath her breath and begrudgingly set to work, he quickly warded the classroom door and then made his way to the desk at the front of the room. Sitting down, he crossed his arms and focused his attention on the pureblood heir. "Now, Mr. Malfoy… I have afforded you great liberties with my patience – _and_ my witch – so I would suggest you not try me further by dallying any longer."

Swallowing hesitantly, Draco flicked his gaze toward the scowling girl and then walked toward the man's desk. Perching against one of the nearby stools, he cleared his throat. "She can't tell anyone anything, can she?"

"No," the professor replied before allowing his eyes to catch hers. "Granger, you will not discuss what transpires here with anyone else. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she nodded, returning to her disgusting task.

Malfoy watched her for a moment before meeting his Head of House's expectant expression. "My father asked you to help me?"

"He did," the man nodded. "He approached me at Christmas with the request. Apparently, he and your mother had discussed it several months prior, but were afraid of your aunt's reaction."

"Why you?" the boy hissed quietly. "_You_ took his place."

The dark-haired wizard folded his arms. "I may _presently_ be in the Dark Lord's favor, but I am also indebted to your father. Without his influence, I would not… be where I am."

Noticing his student's hesitant expression, he shrugged casually. "Of course, should the tables turn as they are wont to do in the Dark Lord's circle, it may be beneficial to have your father in _my_ debt."

The added information appeared to appease the young Slytherin, for he let out a deep sigh and dropped his gaze to the floor. "He's going to kill my mother, sir, if I fail."

"I am well aware of that," Severus replied, leaning forward. "But the fact remains that I am unable to assist you unless I know what it is you have to do."

The boy's eyes fluttered shut as he nodded in understanding, and a look of anguish took over as he slowly raised his eyes. "He wants me to… Sir, I'm supposed to kill Dumbledore."

While the spy's face shifted in surprise, a loud gasp escaped Hermione. "But that's… that's… how can he expect you to do that?"

Snape watched the younger wizard wince, and then let out a slow breath. "What is his timeline?"

Draco seemed to pale even further as he mumbled, "By the end of the school year."

The horrified witch sank onto her stool and stared at the two Slytherins who wore matching looks of defeat. A moment later, however, the professor neutralized his expression and cleared his throat. "What have you considered?"

The boy shook his head as he stared at the desk. "It's not like I could manage to get him alone, and even then, I wouldn't stand a chance against him. Aunt Bella said she would help me, but so far… I still have nothing."

"I see," Severus murmured, running his hand over his chin. "I agree that your best chance lies with a more subtle option. Poisoning, perhaps. Something slow-acting and hard to detect."

"Obviously," Malfoy snapped. "But I don't even know where to begin. I can't exactly ask Madam Pince for a book on poisons, now can I?"

"Madam Pince, no."

"You have something I could use?"

The older wizard inhaled slowly. "Give me the week to see what I can put together. We can meet again to discuss the matter on Sunday evening if that is agreeable to you."

A moment later, Draco nodded and stood from his seat. "Granger said that you might have more –"

"Of course," the professor interrupted, producing a canister from within his desk drawer. "Whenever you are nearly out again, I will replenish it."

After accepting it with muffled gratitude, the blonde glanced back at his classmate. "Am I to assist with flobberworms now?"

"Oh, I believe Miss Granger is fully capable of preparing them on her own," Snape replied, allowing a small smirk as the witch noticeably rolled her eyes. "Do take care in not being caught with your trousers undone on your way back to the common room."

With a small snort, the pureblood made his way toward the classroom door. Once he had left, the Slytherin Head rose from his chair.

Hermione paused in the midst of squeezing the mucus into the collection flask when he came to stand beside her. "Shouldn't you go talk to Dumbledore?"

"An hour or two delay will not do him any harm," the man murmured, picking up the knife and grabbing hold of the next flobberworm. "I need these done in time for classes tomorrow."

"I thought I was fully capable of doing this on my own," she commented grumpily.

"By all means," Severus returned, perching on the edge of a stool as he continued working. "Do not allow me to intrude upon –"

"Oh, shut it," she muttered.

The amused expression on his face gradually vanished while they worked in silence for several minutes. Eventually, the girl could not take the tension any longer.

"How was he supposed to accomplish that without help?" she asked after angrily discarding a worm. "Killing Dumbledore? It's… well, it's practically a suicide mission, isn't it?"

"You know that; I know that; Bellatrix knows it; and the more Draco considers it, the more he knows it," the wizard replied quietly.

"Then why?" Hermione growled, slamming her hand against the table. "If he's only supposed to fail, why not just kill his mother right away?"

He blew out a deep breath as he finished gutting another flobberworm and then set down his knife. "As I've said before, the Dark Lord is a showman. He goes for maximum impact. He gave Draco a brief glimmer of hope so that when it fizzles out after a year's worth of suffering, watching his mother's death will be all the more painful because, in the back of his mind, he'll always think he could have prevented it. Her death, in a manner of speaking, will become his fault."

"But it isn't!" she argued. "It wasn't _his_ fault at all! _He_ wasn't the one who –"

"Of course not," Snape agreed in a calmer voice. "Forcing Draco to take the mark underaged and killing Narcissa would certainly have been punishment enough for Lucius. But making it so that Lucius has to watch helplessly as his only son is eaten away at by the guilt over not being capable enough to save his mother… Well, that will utterly destroy him."

As tears pricked at her eyes, the girl was about to wipe her face when her hand was suddenly knocked back to the table. Before she could glare at him, however, she remembered that her hands were covered in slimy, green mucus.

"You shouldn't get it in your eyes."

"I know." Her cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment. "Thank you. I forgot what I was doing."

He grunted in acknowledgement and then gestured toward the nearest sink. "You could start washing up. I can finish up these last few myself."

"Are you sure?" When he nodded, she slid off of her stool and spent a number of minutes scrubbing her hands and forearms before returning to perch beside him.

"You may leave if you'd like."

"And if I'd like, may I stay?"

"I suppose," he murmured.

Hermione watched for a few minutes in slight amazement as he worked far quicker than she had done previously. Folding her arms to her stomach, she cleared her throat. "What are you going to do?"

"Consult the Headmaster before doing anything else."

The witch blew out a slow breath while he picked up the final flobberworm. "Well, you know, he is already –"

"It had not slipped my mind, I assure you," Severus replied.

"Well, hypothetically, couldn't you just allow Draco to take the credit for that?"

The man sighed as he dropped the knife to the table and began collecting the last bit of mucus. "Possibly… if we could manage to identify the curse used – or one with similar effects. And then, we would have to hope that the curse happens to follow the Dark Lord's time frame. It may not. In fact, given the man's willpower, it is likely to drag out past June."

Leaning forward, she frowned. "So you're saying that Draco's only real hope is to kill him himself?"

Severus paused in the midst of cleaning up the table and then shrugged. "At the moment, I see no other option."

The girl covered her face with her hands and did not look up until she heard the sink faucet running. "You are going to help him, right?"

"I will do what I can," he responded tersely, flattening his hands against the sink edge. "But should the Headmaster decide otherwise…"

"I know," she sighed before standing from her stool. Biting down on her lip, she hesitantly approached him. "This is too surreal. I can't believe we're actually discussing this."

A sad smirk was on his face as he turned to face her. "We could stop."

"We could, but that won't stop me from thinking about it." Her eyes slowly drifted to the floor as she held her elbow with her other hand.

When he noticed her lower lip beginning to tremble, the wizard touched her chin. "Hermione? Are you alright?"

"No, not really," she whispered, shaking her head. As he slipped his arm around her back, she tucked her head against his shoulder and held onto his robes. "I'm just so sick of this, of him. I hate him so much."

"You're not alone in that," Snape replied. Pressing his face into her curls, he breathed in the vanilla scent of her shampoo and then closed his eyes for a moment. "But we _will_ finish him, and he _will_ be gone."

"And what if he comes back again?" the girl murmured.

His grip tightened significantly as he turned his head so that his cheek lay against her hair. "Then we fight again until he's well and truly dead."

"And then what?"

The wizard lifted his head and gently smoothed his hand over her spine. "And then we get on with our lives in whatever manner we see fit."

A smile slowly crossed her face as she looked up at him. "Promise?"

While he nodded, she held his gaze and felt her heart begin to beat faster as his fingers continued moving along her back. Almost unconsciously, her eyes flicked toward his mouth, and she began pushing upwards while he lowered his head. Before his lips actually touched hers, however, he turned his head and let out a deep sigh. "I should speak to Albus."

"Okay," she exhaled, dropping her eyes to the side. After he had stepped away from her, she folded her arms and cleared her throat. "Can I wait for you?"

Severus paused at the door and dipped his head. "Lupin should not have any reason to seek me out this evening."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

When green flames appeared in the fireplace, Hermione ducked out of sight until she saw that it was only Severus returning from the Headmaster's office. While he stood still in the middle of the room, she crept back to her original perch on the sofa and then cleared her throat. "How did it go?"

Rubbing his forehead, the man turned to face her. "As well as it could have, I suppose. Albus attempted to hide his surprise, but I do not think he's yet fully come to terms with his relatively imminent demise."

"Understandable," she murmured, pulling her feet onto the cushion. "What did he decide?"

Snape exhaled loudly as he sank onto the couch beside her. "He needs time to consider the situation, but for the meantime, I am to provide assistance. Though we should delay while we can, we both agreed it best to make it appear that the boy is making some progress at least. It may benefit Draco later should a need arise."

"Okay," the witch replied, leaning against the back of the couch. "So what do we do?"

He snorted beneath his breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tread carefully."

"Obviously," she smirked, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Is there any other way to tread?"

"Not if one wants to live to see the morn," the wizard replied quietly. For several minutes they stared in silence at the flames dancing in the grate, until he glanced at the clock and then slowly rose from his seat.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, resting her elbow on the arm rest and propping up her head.

He disappeared into his bedroom and then reappeared a moment later. "I, erm, having something for you."

"For me?" Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she pushed to an upright position.

The man bore an uncomfortable expression on his face as he held out a flat box. "I was not certain that you would… wish to observe it at all, but it has been six months."

Accepting the proffered item, the girl stared at him in mild disbelief. "You got me an anniversary gift?"

"I apologize if you find it inappropriate," he muttered, crossing his arms behind his back. "I just realized recently how much time had passed."

"I don't think it's inappropriate." She shook her head as she ran her hand across the lid of the box. "I just feel bad that I didn't pay attention to the date and that I don't have anything for you."

"It does not bother me at all," he assured her. "You've put up with me remarkably well thus far, and I thought that should be recognized."

An eager grin spread across her face as the witch pulled off the box top to reveal a thin scrap of leather. After running her fingers over the delicate embroidery, she glanced up at him.

"It's a witch's wand sheath," the Slytherin explained. "It was crafted with an undetectable charm, so once it is worn, it is fully concealed from sight, touch, or magic. Only the wearer is aware of its existence and is able to summon its contents."

Her jaw dropped slightly as she looked back at it. "Severus, you really didn't have to do that. It must have cost a fortune."

"I imagine it did," he agreed, settling on the edge of the sofa. "It was my mother's seventeenth birthday present from her parents. Obviously, she no longer has any use for it, and it does me no good sitting in a drawer."

"It's beautiful." Setting the gift on the coffee table, Hermione shifted onto her knees so that she could give him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," the man grunted. When she did not move away from him, he glanced back at the clock. "Perhaps you should head back to your dormitory."

The Gryffindor sighed audibly, but climbed off of the couch and retrieved her gift.

"Hermione," he called out when she had reached the door leading to McGonagall's corridor.

"Yes?"

Severus rubbed the back of his neck. "If you find yourself unable to sleep, you may always contact me."

A blush graced her cheeks as she squeezed the box to her chest. "Well if you ever… fancy a late-night chat or whatever, just let me know."

With a snort, he rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Good night, Granger."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Where did you want to go?" Hermione asked her roommate as they walked down the snowy path to Hogsmeade village on Saturday afternoon.

Ginny shrugged. "Wherever you want to."

"Well, you know me," the brunette stated in false cheer, "I want to spend the entire time in Tomes and Scrolls."

"That's fine."

The older girl's eyes widened as she looked at her friend. "Gin, you heard what I said, right?"

"Yep."

"You want to spend the day in a bookstore instead of going anywhere else?"

"I said it was fine, didn't I?"

"You don't want to go to Spintwitches?"

"Not really."

"Zonko's?"

"Nope."

"Honeydukes?"

"Nope."

"Seriously?" Hermione gasped. "Do you even want to go at all?"

The redhead gave another shrug of her shoulders. "I'd rather not be in the castle."

Her friend let out a long breath and shook her head. "I was completely kidding about the bookstore – I mean, I want to poke around a bit, but I don't need to stay terribly long."

"It's okay if you do."

After rubbing her face with her glove, the brunette glanced over her shoulder to see that Seamus was looking equally frustrated as he walked beside a silent Dean. When the hotheaded wizard caught her looking at them, she made an exaggerated face and rolled her eyes. After he nodded in agreement, she returned her eyes to the path ahead and cleared her throat. "Alright, then we'll go to Tomes and Scrolls for a while and then over to Sandwitch's for tea and biscuits or something."

"Sounds fine."

"Ugggh, Merlin," she groaned under her breath.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"He had to have been meeting someone."

"Yeah, but who?"

"I don't know. No one good."

Hermione narrowed her brow as she glanced past Neville to see Harry and Ron conversing in low voices near the stairwell. Curious, she said a quick farewell to the other boy and then made her way over to them. "What are you two talking about?"

Though Ron dropped his gaze to the floor, he made no effort to leave her presence.

"Malfoy," Harry growled, leaning forward. "In the village, he was acting twitchy with his friends, and then he just sneaks away."

"So naturally you followed him," she muttered.

"Naturally," the boy smirked before again donning a serious expression. "I think he knew I was following though, because he kept darting through crowded stores, and I lost him. Half an hour later, I see him sneaking back from the woods and then he made a beeline out of the village toward the castle."

"Perhaps he was simply meeting his girlfriend for a quick snog away from prying eyes."

The witch flushed red as she looked up to see that Remus had suddenly appeared beside her.

"She'd have to be a right nasty piece of work to snog that snake," Ron sputtered.

Hermione could feel the man's gaze burning into the side of her head as Harry snorted in agreement. When she was certain the boys were not looking at her, she turned her head to glare at him.

"No offense, Remus," Harry replied, "but if he were only meeting some girl for that, why would he need to be _that_ secretive?"

"Maybe he just didn't like you following him," she suggested after the werewolf finally shifted his gaze to his friend's son.

"Or maybe it wasn't a girl after all," Ron sneered. "Maybe it was a bloke. He could be queer."

"Or _maybe_ it was a Death Eater," the other boy hissed.

Sighing, the girl rubbed her head and cleared her throat. "Well, erm, let me know if you figure anything out. I have to get to the Hospital Wing."

"You're not going to supper?" the ginger-haired wizard asked.

_Of course that would be the first civil thing he says to me in weeks_. She shook her head. "Not hungry. Ginny and I ate in the village."

"Would you like an escort –"

"No, Professor," she interrupted, glancing at the man in warning. "I would not. But thank you for your concern."

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Hermione spun on her heel and made her way toward the infirmary. Once she was out of their sight, however, she darted down a side corridor and leaned against the wall. Technically, Madam Pomfrey had suggested she take the night off since she had been kept late the rest of the week, but she had no desire to sit through her friends' character assassination of the boy who was suffering worse than she was.

Of course she wanted – and probably needed – to know who Draco had been meeting. Likely it had been for something more nefarious than a romantic rendezvous in the trees, but that was for Severus and Dumbledore to know. For all she was concerned, if Remus was under the impression that she was the one he was meeting, then so be it. The only one who could prove otherwise was Ginny, and she highly doubted that the Defense Instructor would ask her.

"Granger."

"Geez!" she gasped, clutching her chest. Her heart was beating loudly as she turned to look at the tall blonde who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. "Merlin, what is _wrong_ with you?"

Draco seemed not to notice her reaction as he murmured, "Get him."

"What?"

"Snape," the boy growled. "He's not in his office, so get him. Now."

"Okay." Taking in a deep breath, she did as instructed and only had to wait a few seconds for a response.

**'Is it an emergency?'**

_'You tell me. Draco says he needs to talk to you, and Harry saw him sneaking off to the woods to meet someone earlier.'_

**'Piss. I'm with the Headmaster, but I will attempt to cut it short. I can meet you in my office.'**

"Alright," the witch replied, gesturing toward the nearest staircase. "He'll be in his office in a moment. You may want to, erm, disillusion yourself."

Nodding once, the pureblood tapped his wand to his head and vanished from sight. As they walked down to the dungeons, Hermione shivered and slipped one arm about her waist. It felt weird being followed by an invisible person, and even more so when it was someone she normally would not have trusted not to hex her in the back.

Upon reaching the familiar wooden door, she knocked twice but received no response. Chewing her lip, she glanced in either direction and then pushed it open.

"Hold on," Malfoy snapped, pointing to the door as soon as he had removed the charm. "That door was locked. I know it was, because I tried to open it fifteen minutes ago."

Grimacing slightly, the girl sank back against a table. "Yeah, well, you're not the one bound by his magic to serve him, are you?"

"Oh," he breathed before raising his lip in disgust. "Kind of like a house elf, then?"

"I guess," she growled, crossing her arms. "Any snide comments you wish to make?"

He shook his head and shifted uncomfortably. "I was just thinking that it was unlikely that your service would end if he presented you with clothes."

Hermione snorted softly as she pulled out a chair. "If only it were that easy. No, I'm afraid I'm stuck with him for good."

"Sorry."

Utterly shocked by hearing the word coming out of his mouth for the second time that week, she was only able to shrug her shoulders in response. Thankfully, they were saved from any further conversation by the arrival of the Potions Master through the fireplace.

"Mr. Malfoy," he stated coolly as he crossed toward his desk. "I trust there was a worthy reason to pull me away from the Headmaster?"

Draco blanched slightly and nodded. "Aunt Bella wanted me to meet her outside of Hogsmeade today."

The witch's eyes widened slightly as she looked toward the professor.

"I imagine then that it will only be a matter of time before the casualty list is released," Severus sneered as he took his seat.

"She didn't kill anyone," the blonde snapped.

"That you are aware of," his Head of House replied. "I know better than to hold my breath. Now what did she want?"

The boy exhaled loudly as he dug into an interior pocket of his robes. "She gave me this."

Snape leaned forward to peer at the vial produced and raised his eyebrows at noticing the greyish-green liquid it contained. "I take it that is a concentrate of –"

"Angel's Trumpet," the younger wizard stated.

Hermione slowly stood from her chair as she approached them, eyeing the vial in horror. "Isn't that –"

"A deadly poison?" Severus finished boldly. "Indeed, Miss Granger."


	62. Developments

**A/N: Thanks for continuing to pester me about updating. I've put off a great deal of academic writing to pound this out in the past three days, so I hope it's up to your expectations. I'm blaming my muse for roping in a new aspect to this story that I had not foreseen until yesterday. Hmmm... oh well. **

**Also, I received a PM earlier this week, notifying me that this story has been nominated for a number of awards in the 1st Annual Beechwood Academy Fan Fiction Awards. There are more details on my profile page.**

**Thanks again! **

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 62**

A heavy silence descended upon the room as all three sets of eyes remained fixed on the small vial in the boy's hand. Eventually, Snape took in a deep breath and cleared his throat. "What did she say when she gave this to you?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Not much. Just that I should figure out how to use this because she can't be expected to do everything for me. Oh, and she told me not to trust you with anything."

Hermione flicked her concerned gaze to the man in time to see him arch an eyebrow.

"Did you _tell_ her that you were seeking my assistance?"

"Do I _look_ like a fucking idiot to you?" the blonde snapped; his face twisting into an ugly sneer. "Of course I didn't!"

The professor paused for a minute while studying the boy's face for any traces of falsity. Seeing none, he shifted his weight. "Did she say anything regarding the concentration of the extract?"

"No."

"Toxicity of the original plant?"

"No."

"Where she procured –"

"No!" Draco hissed. "She didn't tell me anything!"

With a deep sigh, Severus held out his hand. In response, the boy pulled his hand back from him. "Why should I give it to you? Aunt Bella says you're only out to make yourself look better."

"And you think your dear Auntie Bellatrix cares anything for you?" the man snarled. "Or your mother, for that matter?"

"She got me this, didn't she?" he protested, brandishing the poison.

"With no information or further aid!" Snape argued. "Without knowing anything of that extract's strength or age or concentration or origin or preparation, there is _no_ way to know whether it will even work! She could be setting you up to fail!"

"And if you take credit for it, I still fail," the younger wizard stated angrily. "Don't I?"

His Head of House let out a long breath and wiped his face. "Draco, the task was set to _you_. If I step in and take the credit for performing _your_ task without _his_ explicit authorization, what do you think would happen to _me_?"

Though he said nothing, the pureblood noticeably gulped.

"Do you think I enjoy flailing about on the floor, having my head repeatedly slammed into the stone, burning from the inside out, or having my flesh ripped to shreds?" Severus growled, causing both students to flinch. "Because I assure you, Mr. Malfoy, I do _not_!"

His face flushing in shame, the boy ducked his head and held out the flask.

Snatching it from his hand, the older wizard stared at the liquid through the glass for a moment and then proceeded to screw off the cap. When he did so, Hermione failed to stifle a small gasp.

"There is no reason to fret, Miss Granger," he murmured without so much as looking in her direction. "I do not plan on ingesting it."

The witch swallowed nervously as Draco glanced back at her with a strange look on his face. It took her a moment of consideration, but she realized that his expression was one of fear.

"I cannot tell purely from observation as to its relative toxicity," Snape stated decisively. "I shall have to study it under more thorough means."

The blonde's eyes tracked the vial as it was set upon the desk. "How long will that take?"

"A few days, perhaps," the man replied with a shrug.

"But –"

Draco suddenly paled in horror as the fireplace flared green, and Hermione similarly felt a knot form in her stomach. Snape, on the other hand, was the picture of calm as he stepped in front of his desk, effectively hiding the poison.

"Severus…" Dumbledore paused in the midst of his transmission as he realized that the room was occupied by more than just his Potions Master. "Oh, I see that you are in the middle of something."

"Just a brief conversation on what does and does not constitute appropriate Prefect behavior," the Slytherin Head smirked, folding his arms. "Is there something that requires my assistance?"

"When you are free, yes," the Headmaster nodded. "A death has been discovered in Hogsmeade… apparent Death Eater involvement."

"I see," Snape stated, donning a serious tone and expression. "I shan't be but a moment."

With an understanding nod, the elder wizard leaned away from his fireplace and disappeared from sight. When the fireplace had returned to its usual status, the spy slowly turned to look at the ashen-faced boy. "You were saying?"

"She wouldn't have…" Trailing off, Draco desperately ran his hands over his face. "Why?"

"With Bellatrix, why not?" the professor sneered. "Whatever sense she once had was eaten away at by the dementors."

"Maybe somebody saw her?" Hermione suggested, stepping forward. She could feel her gut twisting further while eyeing the boy's downtrodden expression.

"She could just have Obliviated them!" he squeaked before glaring at her. "She didn't need to _kill_ anyone!"

Severus inhaled loudly as he leaned over his desk to place the vial in his drawer. "That being said, I do need to find out what transpired."

The Gryffindor cleared her throat as she watched him stride toward the fireplace. "And if Harry talks to the Aurors?"

"Fuck," the man mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Draco's head snapped up as he glanced between the two of them. "What?'

"Harry saw you slip away and tried to follow you," Hermione explained quietly. "He saw you come out of the woods and head back to the castle. He thought you must have been meeting someone."

The boy's eyes widened in panic as they swept back to his professor. "What the fuck do I do now?"

Snape grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "Just give me one min –"

"You were meeting me," the girl suggested.

"What, for a shag?" Draco asked in disbelief. "In the _woods_? In the middle of _winter_?"

"For a _snog_," she clarified, rolling her eyes. "I'm not having sex in the woods no matter what season it is."

"Oh, because the Aurors and Dumbledore will believe that you and I –"

"Remus believed it, didn't he?" she pointed out. "In fact, he thought it was me right away when Harry was telling us about you."

The boy studied her hesitantly for a moment. "But what if they… try to verify it?"

Hermione shrugged. "The only one I was with was Ginny and she's so self-involved at the moment that she probably wouldn't have noticed if we had snogged right in front of her. I could have slipped out of the back door of Tomes and Scrolls for twenty minutes and she would have never known. Plus, we came back to the castle much earlier than everyone else, so perhaps you and I even negotiated a rendezvous in the castle while the majority of the school was out and about."

Draco stared at her in shock and then slowly raised his eyes to his Head of House.

"Quite the accomplished little liar, isn't she?" he quipped.

"Yeah," the blonde murmured, running through her story in his head. "So I'm not eager to share because it would ruin my reputation –"

"Mine, too!" she argued.

Severus rubbed the back of his neck. "And I happened to hear word of your straying from the path and was intervening."

"Of course," Hermione nodded. "After Remus hinted that Draco had been secretly meeting his girlfriend –"

"Ugh, fuck me," the boy muttered under his breath.

"—I was concerned that someone could have seen something, so I sought him out here in the dungeons instead of going to the infirmary like I said I was going to. While I was relaying my fears to him, you happened to overhear us."

The professor nodded as seized a handful of Floo powder. "Granger, you have detention Monday night. Malfoy, Tuesday. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," they mumbled in unison.

Once he had disappeared in a swirl of green flames, Hermione glanced at her rival and flashed a nervous smile.

Draco gave a disgusted grimace and shook his head. "Father would flay me into a coma if he thought I was boinking you."

"Well, lucky for you he'll know it's a lie even if he does hear about it," she sighed, leaning against the desk.

"Yeah," he sneered quietly. "Lucky me."

The witch grimaced as he suddenly strode toward the door. "Draco, I didn't mean –"

"Don't bother," he interrupted with a wave of his hand.

"Look," she stated, "for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

The blonde paused briefly with his hand on the doorknob. "Yeah? Well, a fat lot of good that does me."

Hermione let out a deep sigh as he stormed out of the room, and then let her gaze drift to the floor. She knew she should not be offended by his reaction – and really, he had said it with only a fraction of the venom he normally used – but she could not help but feel sick to her stomach. Drawing in a deep shuddering breath, she glanced at the fireplace while trying to find some desire to leave the room.

Finding none, she meandered around the end of the desk and sank into Snape's chair.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Spinning out of the fireplace, Severus paused momentarily at seeing the crowd gathered in the Headmaster's office. In addition to Dumbledore – who had since returned to his seat – Minerva, Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Nymphadora Tonks all stood with anxious expressions on their faces.

"Thank you for coming, Severus," the elder wizard stated, sounding slightly winded. "I apologize again for interrupting."

"No need," he shook his head while moving further into the room. "I was just about to send them on their way."

While Albus nodded, Kingsley cleared his throat. "You don't happen to know anything about this, do you?"

Snape locked his eyes onto the tall, black Auror. "If by _this_, you are referring to an apparent death in Hogsmeade, Shacklebolt, then I know the two sentences that were shared with me via the Floo."

The man eyed him speculatively for a moment, but gave a nod to his younger counterpart.

Tonks straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, stumbling slightly as she caught her foot on the edge of the sofa. "Shortly after, erm, the last students had returned and the school gates had closed, someone cast the _Morsmordre_."

Severus's eyebrows rose noticeably as he focused on the pink-haired witch.

"I happened to see it appear while on my sentry rounds," she continued, "I alerted Kingsley who dispatched Aurors to investigate. At the scene, they found Silas Jiggers dead, strung up in the trees behind his house. The rest of his family were inside the home, murdered as well."

The Slytherin closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "Do you know who is responsible?"

"Not as of yet," Kingsley replied.

"We were hoping you might have some ideas," the young witch added.

Snape swallowed slowly before flicking his gaze to the Headmaster. "At this moment, I have nothing to share, but I can attempt to seek out information."

"You weren't made aware of a threat to the apothecary or his family?" Kingsley pressed.

"Had I been, Albus would have been informed immediately," he snapped, crossing his arms. "But no, I wasn't. As far as I can tell you, it was not a sanctioned act, but then again, I haven't received a summons in a month's time."

"In a month?" the Auror repeated. "Why so long? Does he suspect –"

"We have no reason to believe that Severus has been compromised," Dumbledore interrupted quietly with a shake of his head. "Riddle generally does not call for him with great frequency during the school year unless it is a matter of urgency."

Severus pinched his lips together. "I will attempt to determine at least whether this was an isolated incident or part of a larger plot. Whatever I discover will be shared with the Headmaster, I assure you."

Looking as though he had been struggling internally with something, Remus coughed lightly. "I, erm, don't know that it has anything to do with this, but Harry _did_ mention –"

"Lupin," his former classmate snarled in warning.

"What did Potter mention?" Kingsley asked.

The werewolf grimaced briefly as he eyed the dark expression on the Slytherin's face and then cleared his throat. "Harry noticed that Draco Malfoy had slipped away from the group and later saw him coming out of the woods –"

"You think _he_ killed them?" Tonks gasped.

"N-no," Remus shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. Harry said that he headed back to the castle early, but thought maybe he had been meeting someone."

"Severus?" McGonagall asked, stepping in front of the Defense instructor. "What is it?"

Glaring past her shoulder as he felt all eyes turn yet again to his person, he let out a deep sigh. "Mr. Malfoy was _not_ involved with the murders."

"Then who was he meeting?" Kingsley asked.

Lupin paled slightly as the Slytherin's dark gaze locked onto his. "Oh, Merlin – it really _was_ her, wasn't it? _They_ were the ones you were just talking to, weren't they?"

"As quick on the uptake as ever," Snape growled.

"Oh, damn."

Four pairs of eyes flicked rapidly between the two men until the pink-haired witch could stand the confusion no longer. Accidentally knocking over a stack of books on the table, she cursed under her breath and then folded her arms to her chest. "Oi! Just what the bloody hell are the two of you on about? Care to clue the rest of us in?"

"Perhaps the wolf would oblige," the Potions Master sneered, "since he's always been so eager to put students in harm's way."

"Severus!" Minerva and Dumbledore snapped in unison.

Remus flushed in embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair. "I have to have everyone's word that what I'm about to say will not leave this room."

"And you have it," Kingsley nodded.

"Not good enough," Snape grunted. "I want a wand oath from the two of you."

"Severus, is that really –"

"Yes, Minerva, it is _really_ necessary," he muttered. "Wand oath not to reveal it or targeted Obliviation prior to leaving. I leave the decision solely to them."

As he expected, the two Aurors withdrew their wands and solemnly promised not to divulge whatever information that was about to be revealed to them. Once they had finished, the dark-haired man gestured impatiently to his former schoolmate.

The Marauder cleared his throat. "As unbelievable as it may sound, Draco Malfoy has been… he's currently involved with another student…"

"Involved how?" Kingsley asked.

"Romantically."

"With whom?"

Remus winced as he replied, "Hermione Granger."

"What!" Tonks cried; her jaw dropping. "_Hermione_? _Our_ Hermione?"

Severus shifted uncomfortably when he noticed how the Deputy Headmistress's gaze suddenly swung toward him. She controlled her expression upon receiving his pointed glare, but gave him a look that signified she expected that a private explanation be forthcoming.

"There must be some mistake," Minerva mumbled, shaking her head as she donned a look of incredulity. "She and Malfoy have never been friendly toward one another."

"Well, neither were Lily and James, and they…"

Snape flexed his hand into a fist as Lupin trailed off and sheepishly glanced at him.

"You're sure they're involved?" Tonks asked.

The greying wizard nodded his head. "Severus and I… happened upon them last weekend, and I've since spoken with Her—Miss Granger regarding the matter. Her behavior suggests that she cares for him quite deeply."

"And the Malfoy boy?" Kingsley questioned. "Are you certain that this is not –"

"_Were_ he _seducing_ her as an agent of the Dark Lord," the spy interrupted grumpily, "he would not have been sniveling at my desk later that night, attempting to offer up a significant portion of his inheritance in exchange for my discretion regarding their… _dalliance_."

"He was quite sincere?"

The Slytherin inhaled slowly. "To be perfectly frank, I have never seen that boy more frightened out of his head then he has been recently."

"Yeah, well, no shit," Nymphadora sighed, perching against the armrest of the sofa. "Aunt Bellatrix would skin him alive if she ever found out he was sneaking around with a Muggleborn."

The senior Auror did not look entirely convinced as he muttered, "No good has ever come out of that family."

"Hey!" his colleague snapped, spinning around to look at him. "My mum came out of _that_ family, thank you very much!"

"As did Sirius," Lupin argued before sending another apologetic glance toward Snape.

"Just because _most_ of the family is flawed, doesn't mean they _all_ are," the young woman lectured. "Maybe now that my little cousin is old enough to think for himself, he isn't so bad."

Kingsley took in a deep breath but nodded his head in understanding. "I did not mean any offense."

Tonks nodded and tugged on one of her bubblegum locks. "We're no closer than we were on the Jiggers case, however."

"I do apologize that I have nothing useful to share with you," Snape stated.

The witch opened her mouth to speak but was prevented from doing so by the arrival of a silver hawk soaring through the window into the room.

"Have the two of you finished yet?" the voice of Alastor Moody growled. "Or did you just think I would handle it all on my own?"

With a sigh, Kingsley sent his lynx off with a reply and the two Aurors offered their farewell.

"Minerva, Remus," Dumbledore spoke, leaning forward, "I would appreciate it if the two of you could inform the staff of the situation in Hogsmeade. I should think we will all be in agreement that no students are to leave school grounds unless retrieved by their guardians."

"Yes, of course," McGonagall nodded. Though she dutifully followed her former student toward the office door, she cast a questioning glance at her Slytherin counterpart.

Once the office had been vacated save for the Headmaster and his spy, the latter stepped toward the desk and dropped into a chair.

"I take it that you _do_ have something useful to share with _me,"_ Albus stated.

Severus nodded wearily. "Draco was meeting with Bellatrix. She was delivering a vial of Angel's Trumpet extract with your name on it."

"I see," the elder man murmured.

"And given that the entire Jiggers family was just executed," the dark-haired wizard continued, "I think it is safe to say that I know where she managed to procure it. There were always rumors that Silas Jiggers dealt with banned substances."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers as he considered the information. "Do you believe Riddle was aware of this ahead of time?"

"Anything is possible," the Slytherin shrugged, "but I highly doubt it. I think she's attempting to put herself in a position where she shall benefit no matter the outcome. Should Draco succeed… in his task—"

"In murdering me," Albus corrected.

The younger man let out a stiff sigh. "Should Draco succeed, he would have to credit her assistance, but should he fail, she can claim she did everything she could to aid him, and that the failure was entirely his. Unfortunately for darling, blood-thirsty Bella, calling everyone's attention to the slaying of an alleged poison-maker prior to a planned poisoning is not what the Dark Lord would consider subtle assistance."

"If you go to him…"

"I can inform him of the details of what transpired, insinuate that the Aurors suspect Bellatrix due to the severity of the charm work, and allow him to draw his own conclusions regarding her motives."

"And what of the young Mr. Malfoy?"

Severus shook his head. "Draco has neglected to tell her that he has been associating with myself and Miss Granger. I shall not reveal any mention of his task or the poison."

"That only leaves the issue of the poisoning itself," Dumbledore muttered. "Where is the extract?"

"Warded inside my desk drawer," he replied. "I've managed to convince Draco that I need to examine its toxicity before anyone goes using it."

"I do have some tolerance to the substance, you realize," the elder smirked. "Most poisons, actually."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Had you not played dress-up with the Dark Lord's jewelry, I would not be as concerned. That curse, however, has likely diminished the protection you had previously acquired."

"You are likely correct, my boy," Albus mumbled sadly. After a moment of reflection, he touched his beard. "Could you modify it?"

"Weaken it, you mean?"

"Precisely," the Headmaster nodded. "A heavily diluted sample will produce believable symptoms and still be detectable by diagnosis charms."

Severus narrowed his eyes as he considered the proposition. "In that case, it would still give the appearance that you do, in fact, possess a tolerance to the poison, and could temporarily explain your weakened state. The Dark Lord would be assured that Draco is attempting to do as instructed, and having previously brought Bellatrix's idiocy to his attention, I could, with any luck, hang the failure around her scrawny, little neck."

"With any luck," Dumbledore repeated with a small smile. "How long do you envision it taking to dilute the extract?"

"Three or four days, I suppose," he murmured. "Give another day or two to ensure that the toxicity levels are not actually enough to kill a compromised individual such as yourself."

"So you'll need a week for good measure?"

The Potions Master nodded.

"And if I do remember my poisons correctly," Albus chuckled, "Angel's Trumpet does act quite slowly so as to make it nearly impossible to determine when it was administered to the system."

"Indeed."

"So it shall be a surprise to us all as to when it finally takes effect, hmm? That should add a bit of excitement in the upcoming weeks."

"Have you forgotten to take your Restorative Draught this afternoon?" Snape sneered. "I think your brain has been addled."

"Yes, well," the man shrugged. "I look forward to you poisoning me during next week's staff meeting. I'm certain you'll find it quite cathartic."

The spy snorted under his breath. "You have no idea."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

After slipping past the Hogwarts gates, Severus took in a steadying breath and then pressed the tip of his wand into his left wrist. A few seconds passed before he felt the burn flare through his arm, and upon touching his wand to the Mark a second time, he disappeared into a faint trace of black smoke and then fell out of the sky to land harshly upon his feet in the formal dining room at Malfoy Manor.

"Severus," Voldemort smiled from his position at the head of the table that hosted not only the Malfoys, but Bellatrix and the Lestrange brothers as well. "How nice of you to join us for supper. It has been too long since last we saw you. Do have a seat."

"Of course, my Lord," he nodded, reaching out for the chair which the dark wizard had gestured to. As he sat at the immediate right of the Dark Lord, he could feel a particular pair of eyes attempting to burn a hole into the side of his head. Paying no attention to the witch that belonged to them, Severus dipped his head respectfully to a silent Narcissa who sat across from him and then casually placed a napkin on his lap.

"Now then, Severus," the tyrant stated once the newcomer's meal had appeared upon the table, "might I ask what has inspired a social call?"

Clearing his throat, the spy picked up his fork. "Interesting events have unfolded this evening in the village Hogsmeade."

"Is that so?" Voldemort asked with a tilt of his head. "Do explain."

"Well, it seems, my Lord, that someone decided to execute Silas Jiggers and his family."

"Did they now?"

"Indeed, my Lord," Snape nodded. "And they felt it necessary to declare that it had been done in your name."

"Oh?"

The younger man smiled internally at the deep hiss of the Dark Lord's tone for it meant that he indeed had not given the act his blessing. "Aurors were alerted to the scene when the _Morsmordre_ was cast above the Jiggers house."

"The _Morsmordre_!" the serpent-like man snarled quietly, dropping his cutlery as he leaned toward his spy. "And just whom do the Aurors suspect?"

"They have no solid leads at last I heard, but the office does suspect, based solely upon the brutality of the deaths–"

"Bellatrix!" Voldemort snapped as he sat tall once again.

"Yes, my Lord?" she sang sweetly from her seat across from Lucius near the other end of the long table.

"Tell me, Bella," the tyrant snapped, folding his hands upon the table, "did you happen to pay a visit to Hogsmeade this afternoon?"

"Hogsmeade?" she repeated quietly, tilting her head and twirling a finger in her dark hair. "Well, I –"

"Do not _lie_ to me!" the Dark Lord shouted as he slammed his fist against the table, causing Narcissa to jump.

Fear flickered briefly across the dark-haired witch's face as she swallowed slowly. "Yes, my Lord."

"You were in Hogsmeade?" he growled.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Rodolphus."

"Yes, my Lord?"

Voldemort calmly picked up his wine goblet and took a slow sip before replying. "Do be so kind as to escort your wife into the Master's study. _Now_."

"As you command, my Lord," Lestrange mumbled, pushing out of his seat. As he reached for the woman's arm, she yanked it out of his grasp, and refused any of his assistance as she stood from the table. Casting a murderous glare in Snape's direction, Bellatrix marched out of the room a full pace ahead of her husband with her head held high.

Once they had left, the odd silence of the room continued until the Dark Lord finally cleared his throat a few minutes later. After dabbing his lips with his napkin, he smiled once more at the man seated beside him. "So good to see you again, Severus. Do have some of the custard before you leave. It is exceptional."

With a murmured word of acceptance, the Potions Master followed the dark wizard's exit with his eyes and then glanced once more to the witch across from him. "It really is a lovely meal, Narcissa. Your elves are quite talented."

"Thank you," she mumbled, flicking her gaze past the number empty chairs that separated them from her husband and the younger Lestrange brother. After catching sight of Lucius's nearly imperceptible nod, she set her napkin upon the table. "May I offer you a drink, Severus?"

"Thank you, yes," he nodded, eyeing the wizards out of the corner of his eye. Rabastan looked oblivious to anything outside of the large helping of potatoes on his plate, while Lucius was surreptitiously casting glances of concern in his wife's direction.

Giving a tight smile, Narcissa rose from her chair and crossed to the wetbar in the corner. Grabbing the decanter of her husband's brandy, she removed the crystal stopper only to nearly drop it all when a muffled scream fractured the quiet of the dining room. Biting down on her lower lip, she steadied her nerves enough to pour two fingers of the dark amber liquid into a crystal tumbler.

While taking a bite of his steak, Severus noticed her fish something out of her pocket before picking up the glass. As she delivered it to him, she happened to drop whatever she had in her hand into his lap and whispered, "Is Draco alright?"

"For the moment," he mouthed before accepting the tumbler and giving an audible word of thanks.

The regal witch gave a cool nod of her head before returning to her own seat.

Without looking down, the spy collected the small scrap of parchment and slipped it into his own pocket. While everyone sat in silence, he choked down his dinner as quickly as he could. By the time his plate had been replaced by a smaller one filled with custard, the screams from the other room became exponentially louder.

As Narcissa jerked in her seat and stared at the tablecloth, the three men exchanged brief glances. Without a single word exchanged, they all knew full well that the Dark Lord had grown disappointed with Rodolphus's efforts in punishing his wife and had taken over the task himself.

Shoveling down one last bite of custard, Snape tossed back the remainder of his drink and then rose from his chair. "Narcissa, Lucius, Rabastan – good evening. Thank you for the meal."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Immediately upon returning to the castle, Severus headed for his quarters and then collapsed into the armchair in front of the fire. Though he felt no compassion for the witch likely still twitching under her master's wand, he held no real animosity toward her sister. Narcissa had only acted as was expected of a dutiful daughter and wife, supporting her parents and then her husband as they supported the Dark Lord. She had never showed any interest in taking the Mark, choosing instead to become a mother. He knew just how much the woman had doted upon her son, and he suspected it must be killing her to know that she was meant to be his undoing.

After wiping his face, the spy dug in his pocket for the scrap she had given him. Upon pulling it out, he quickly realized that it had been a minimized envelope. After restoring it to its original size, he immediately broke the seal and extracted a folded sheet of parchment as well as a slightly smaller envelope addressed to and clearly charmed only to be opened by Draco. Setting the second item to the side, he unfolded the letter and gradually felt his lips part in shock as he began to read.

**_Severus,_**

**_Lucius says that you are Draco's best chance, and I can do nothing but hope that he is right. I know my son, and though he is unable to share any of his burden with me, I can see that he holds little expectation of succeeding. Lucius has more confidence in our son, but I do not share his optimism. _**

**_I have no doubts as to the horrors HE is capable of, and since he has taken it upon himself to destroy my family in the process, I cannot sit idly by. Should HE ultimately be successful in his endeavors, I do not foresee that my family will be allowed to share in those successes. Should HE fail, our chances are hardly better – Lucius will likely be killed or imprisoned, and I as well for my complicity in his activities, but perhaps Draco could be spared. For this slim chance, I place my faith in you because I have no one else. _**

**_I fully realize that you may not be the man I think you are, and that you may betray me to HIM should it suit your needs, but I will then accept Death with the knowledge that I tried to save them. I cannot offer you much, but I will give you every assistance I can manage without further risking my child. I do not know what it is you already know, or what you need to know, but I will tell you everything I have discovered. I only hope that it can aid you in some manner._**

**_Despite HIS many comments about my being a gracious host, I do not feel as though I am such. Though the elves are still bound to serve Lucius and I, the wards are not. They have been altered so as to only allow free passage of those that bear HIS Mark. I am no more than a prisoner in my home, unable to leave under my own power. To this end, HE commanded Lucius to bind the elves presently living here so that they are unable to remove anyone but themselves through the wards. I mention this to you because Draco has reported seeing one of his former elves somewhere within the school. Though it was freed from our service, it was unintentional on Lucius's part, and so the ties to the Manor were never actually severed. Should the elf choose to return, it will more than likely be able to pass in and out of the Manor with or without un-Marked companions. I do not ask that you send it for me, because I know that Lucius and Draco are safer while I remain imprisoned under HIS watch, but perhaps it may be of use to you at some point. _**

**_I also suspect that the Manor has recently become Unplottable. I have not received the Prophet since last I saw you, and there has been no post, not even from my son. I suppose only those who have been invited or are keyed to the wards may find it. HE has not left the Manor very often since the owls stopped arriving, so I am further convinced HE now means to use this as HIS home. HE spends countless hours locked away in the library. I believe that HE must be researching something, for the elves have noticed that HE selects books solely from the section on Wizarding traditions and mythologies. The books are not innately Dark, as I would not have allowed them in Draco's reach while growing up, and I would imagine they may be available in the Hogwarts library should you think them of interest._**

"My gods," Severus muttered aloud as he eyed the short list of titles she had included. He agreed with her assessment that the titles were seemingly innocuous enough, but if the Dark Lord was that interested in reading them, there must be something within them that could prove dangerous.

**_Regarding HIM, I do not think that I have anything else to offer that you don't already know. However, I know that my sister has designs on eliminating both you and my family from HIS favor. Lucius currently poses no threat to her, but she is beginning to see Draco as one. She voices concern and pride for him for my benefit, but when in the privacy of their bedroom, she speaks otherwise to Dolph. Whatever it is that Draco is to do, she knows, and is determined to hinder his progress for she fears that if he is successful, he shall entirely reverse our current standing in HIS eyes. If his task is of such importance to HIM, I can only fear for my darling son's safety. _**

**_As for you, I know Lucius gave you warning at Christmas, but she does not cease in her efforts to ruin you and the muggleborn. She is plotting always, but says nothing of this aloud. I only have heard her mutterings regarding your trustworthiness, which only gives me hope that there is merit to her claims. There is something that she has said to Dolph, though, that I cannot quite explain. She repeatedly argues that HE always trusted them far more than you as evidenced by the fact that you could not even be trusted to keep HIS most trusted possession safe. Dolph suggested that perhaps HIS decision had more to do with the security of your vault than anything else._**

**_Lucius does not know the extent of what I have said to you, and it shall remain that way for all of our sakes. He is solely under the impression that I have asked you to deliver my letter to Draco, but I wish not to waste any more time. If you are not to be trusted, I would rather face my demise on the dawn than wait months with bated breath only to stare into my son's eyes as I bleed out at his feet. If that is your prerogative, I only ask that you give my son my love before you give this letter to HIM._**

**_I hope beyond hope that you do not betray me, for even under pain of death, I shall not betray you._**

**_Narcissa Kerensa Malfoy_**

Snape let out a long breath and stared at the parchment in his hands for several minutes. It appeared that the pureblood witch was passive no longer. Her loyalty was to her son above all else, and to keep that she was willing to betray the Dark Lord, her sister, and even her husband. She was willing to put her life in _his_ hands to do so. She was risking everything on the slim chance that he would not bring her treachery to the Dark Lord, and now he was in the difficult position of determining whether or not he could even risk not doing so.

"Fuck, fuck, _fuck_," he hissed, running a hand through his hair. He did not doubt that he could trust her information, but whether he could trust her to keep it hidden from Voldemort was another matter altogether. A small voice told him to take the letter to Dumbledore to allow him to decide, but he could already guess the man's solution – redact the more sensitive information, and then hand over the letter. As far as the Headmaster was concerned, Narcissa would be a liability and one that could never be loyal to the Order for the same reason that she was not loyal to the Death Eaters.

Had it only been his life on the line, he likely would have given her the benefit of the doubt. But it was not simply his life, nor was it simply Hermione's. It was Harry Potter and the whole damn Order relying on the secrets he could provide.

With a growl, he launched out of his chair and stomped through his bedroom. He needed to think, to weigh his options before doing anything, and in order to do that he needed to find something else to keep him busy. Yanking open the door to his staircase, he scowled the entire way down the staircase and all but threw open the office door. The sound of a small gasp startled him, and he instinctively pointed his wand at his own chair before realizing just who occupied it.

"Granger," he snapped, resheathing his wand. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I was wai-ai-aing," she yawned deeply and stretched her back before rubbing her face. "I was waiting for you. I thought you would have been back a long time ago, and I guess I fell asleep. Where have you been?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "To hell and back."

Hermione snorted quietly and leaned against the back of his chair. "I was under the impression that we were already there."

"True enough," he sighed, perching on the edge of his desk. "I amend my previous statement. I've merely been hopping between several different circles of hell."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled as she extended one hand toward his kneecap. "Am I allowed to know anything?"

"I suppose that would depend upon who you asked," the wizard replied. "I doubt either Dumbledore or the Dark Lord would be agreeable to it, but fortunately for your curiosity, I am not them."

"I would say that is fortunate for far more than just my curiosity," she quipped with a smile before donning a more serious expression. "Who did Bellatrix kill?"

Snape exhaled loudly as he ducked his head. "Silas Jiggers, the most recent owner of Slug and Jiggers in Diagon Alley, and his family."

"She killed his whole family?" the girl gasped, tightening her grip on his leg. "Why?"

He gestured toward the center drawer of his desk.

"He gave her the poison?"

"As far as I can guess," he nodded. "The Dark Lord was not aware of her doing so, however, and once I discussed it with the Headmaster, we determined it was best that I enlighten him."

"Are you alright?" she asked, suddenly sitting tall and sweeping her gaze over him.

"I'm perfectly fine," he grunted, folding his arms and unintentionally crumpling Narcissa's letter. With a grimace, he began smoothing out the creases. "All the Dark Lord did was insist upon my having a hot meal while he made Bellatrix aware of his displeasure with her."

Hermione sucked in an uncertain breath. "Does he know you're helping Draco?"

He shook his head. "Though, of course, Remus thought it prudent to enlighten a fair number of the Order that Potter suspected Draco of having met with someone."

The witch gave a loud groan. "And you explained otherwise?"

"I merely glared at _him_ until _he_ explained otherwise," he corrected.

"About Draco and me?" she asked. When he nodded, she bit down on her bottom lip and sighed. "Who all knows?"

"Albus and Minerva were present, but obviously know otherwise," the man mumbled. "But Tonks and Kingsley now believe that you and he are star-crossed lovers in the midst of war and family prejudice."

"How Shakespearean," the girl grumbled, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "How long until the rest of the –"

"They took a wand oath not to reveal it," he explained.

Exhaling loudly, she leaned against the side of the chair. "Well, that's something at least."

"Mmm," he grunted. "We do, however, find ourselves at another hurdle."

"What do you mean?" She eyed him in confusion as he handed her the parchment and then gasped upon skimming through the letter and seeing the signature at the bottom. "My gods, she's spying on him for you. But how… how does she know you're really working for the Order?"

"She doesn't know for sure," Severus replied. "If you read it fully –"

"Merlin," the girl moaned, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "She's risking everything on what she thinks is a minute possibility."

He swallowed uncomfortably as he nodded his head. "We need to decide what to do with this."

"What?" she hissed, glancing up at him. "What do you mean _decide_? You aren't thinking of betraying her, are you? You _can't_! Look at everything she's doing, everything she's risking to help you!"

"I know that!" he snarled, pushing off of the desk.

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Then how could you even consider doing anything but –"

"Because to do so means risking everything ourselves!" the man shouted at her. "If I take that bloody letter upstairs to Dumbledore, do you know what he'll tell me to do?"

"I don't _want_ to know!" she snapped, slamming her hands down on his desk as she launched to her feet.

"He'll expect me to protect myself and my position in the Order," he continued bitterly, "to take out what might be important, and give the rest of it to the Dark Lord, because it will be far worse should it come out later! He will not risk the entire war on one –"

"He's risking it on you!" she argued. "He's risking it on Harry! He's risking it on me! On every single person he takes into the Order! Why should _she_ be thrown to the wolves because she decided she wasn't just going to be a pawn in Vold—"

"Granger!"

"In _Voldemort's_ sick game to destroy the people she loves most!" the witch finished with a challenging glare. "She's decided not to be a victim and is doing something besides sitting around feeling sorry for herself –"

"And if _the Dark Lord_ _already_ knows of this letter?" he cut in. "What then, Miss Granger? You'll have us throw both ourselves on the sword for nothing? Risk the entire War on –"

"She _isn't_ working for him!" Hermione hissed, picking up the letter and waving it about. "She _wouldn't_ have gone through all of this trouble – giving you his bloody reading list, for godsake – just to test you! _Voldemort_ is hurting her _son_, and she is attempting to take him down in any way she can!"

Severus blew out a deep breath in an effort to keep from screaming at her. Frustrated, he ran both hands through his hair and yanked it hard. "The _issue_ here isn't whether she is knowingly acting for the Dark Lord, but rather that he has her on a tight leash. He is _living_ in her home, day in and day out, with her trapped there. Lucius isn't even fucking allowed to sit beside her while at the dinner table, because _she_ is required to be at the Dark Lord's side. You honestly believe that he will not once attempt Legilimency to search for any signs of treachery? If he _sees_ or _has_ _seen_ anything of what she has written and that she passed it to me, and I don't come forward with it, we're done. You and I will exist no longer."

The girl inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut. "And what if he's already seen the part you decide to remove? We're done then, too. Or if he doesn't know anything about it, and you give it to him, and there's something in there that could directly lead to his undoing? There's no point in us being alive if the Order fails."

"Believe me, I know," he muttered, turning away from her to stare at the fireplace.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as the witch slowly sank into the chair. She wanted to scream at the man for being cold and uncaring, but she knew better. She knew him better than to think that he could cause a friend's – or whatever it was he considered Narcissa Malfoy – death without having laboriously weighed the possible outcomes against the consequences. And he especially would not be able to do it without feeling like a gigantic pile of shit.

It just was not fair. She had started to care about Draco, and by extension, Narcissa. She knew how much it hurt to believe that something she had done had led to her parents' deaths. She had felt that pain for months and had no desire to see Draco carry it for the rest of his life. She could not forget the look of pride that had been in his eyes when he spoke about his mother, about how she was not the same cold woman in private that she portrayed in public. Every time she thought about the comment, it reminded her of Severus. He certainly was not the same man in the classroom or in front of the Death Eaters that he was with her. He was…

"Wait," she whispered, suddenly pulling the letter close to her once more.

"Wait for _what_?" Snape sighed, slowly turning his head to look at her. "I haven't made any decisions yet."

"No, I know," she mumbled, rereading everything carefully, "but what if we're worried over nothing? What if she _can_ protect it?"

The wizard frowned as he turned around to fully face her. "What could possibly make you think that?"

"She hexed her husband's bollocks," Hermione replied offhandedly.

His eyebrows raised in confusion. "What?"

Realizing what had just slipped out of her mouth, the witch blushed and moved a strand of hair behind her ear. "I mean… before Draco said he was ready to meet with you, he commented that I should have used an Engorgement Charm on Cormac's… erm, on Cormac since that was what his mother had done upon discovering that Lucius was having an affair."

Shifting uncomfortably as he considered the ramifications of using that charm on a particular part of his anatomy, Severus coughed and shook his head. "_Narcissa_ did that?"

"Yeah, I was just as surprised," the girl smirked, "but Draco said she's just really good at playing 'the unaffected ice queen' as he called it."

"That's an apt description."

"But it makes me think that maybe… maybe she's controlling her emotions for more than just propriety's sake. And if she's fooled us all…"

The man drew in a slow breath and rubbed his forehead. "But there's no –"

"You told me weeks ago that you and I had to find out what Draco was up to because he was successfully occluding Dumbledore," Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, and I said it was likely that Bellatrix had coached –"

"Why?" she interrupted, leaning forward with an eager expression on her face. "_Why_ does it have to be _her_? Why would _she_ actually train him? If Narcissa's right, and Bellatrix really is trying to hinder Draco, why would she train him in something that could only help _protect_ him?"

Snape stared at her blankly as he processed her questions.

"And then there's what she writes," the young witch continued as she glanced down at the parchment. "Lucius does not know the extent of what I have said to you, _and it shall remain that way for all of our sakes_… I assume that must mean that he isn't an Occlumens –"

He gave a small snort and shook his head.

" – and so she's hiding it even from him, even though she loves him. I cannot believe that she would be naïve enough not to know that You-Know-Who is a Legilimens, but _still_ she promises not to betray you, _even_ under pain of death."

The spy let out a long breath and collapsed onto the wooden chair in front of his desk. "Fuck."

"Please tell me it makes as much sense to you as it does to me," Hermione pleaded.

He leaned forward, holding his head in his hands. "It's still an awful lot to risk if you're wrong."

"Yes, but if I'm _not_…" she sighed and set down the letter on the desk. "There is someone you _can_ ask, you know. If Draco knows how much his mother is putting on the line for him, he'll probably tell you."

"I will consider speaking with him tomorrow," the wizard muttered.

The witch nodded slowly as her gaze slowly drifted toward the desk drawer. "Severus, what about the –"

"I will be poisoning the Headmaster next weekend."

"What?" she cried, snapping her wide eyes to him.

A small smirk toyed at his lips despite the tension in the room. Clearing his throat, he sat tall in the chair. "I will modify the extract this week until it isn't deadly any longer, and then slip it in his tea. Shall be the highlight of my week, I'm sure."

"Oh, gods," Hermione gasped, covering her nose and mouth with both hands. "What if you're caught?"

"There is no reason to be concerned. I assure you it was the old codger's idea."

"Merlin." After a long moment, she narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "This is absolutely ridiculous! _We're_ not supposed to trust someone who is risking her life to help you, but _he_ can certainly gamble with his _own_ sodding life just so he can use _her son _like he uses everyone else. Makes perfect bloody sense to me!"

His eyes trailed her as she pushed out of his chair and stormed toward the door. "Granger."

"What?" the girl snapped, turning around with a glare.

Without looking at her, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have asked you on several occasions not to use the Dark Lord's name. Please do not –"

"Fine," she interrupted, ripping open the door.

As he heard the door slam, Severus leaned forward again and buried his face in his hands. He was about to release a string of curse words when the sound of a loud sigh drew his attention to the office door. Seeing that the witch was still standing there, rigidly staring at the back of the door, he cleared his throat. "Hermione?"

Her shoulders slumped slightly as she turned around, and he could see frustration in every feature of her face. "Why? You lie to his face, betray him every day, but are afraid to say his name? Explain to me how that works."

The dark-haired man let out a deep breath and stood from his chair. "There is a reason the Dark Lord's followers spread rumors not to use his name."

"Because he feeds off of fear," she growled, crossing her arms.

"Yes… and no." He rolled his shoulders and rested his hand on the back of the wooden chair. "You are aware of the supernatural theory regarding demons?"

Hermione frowned in concentration. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Saying a demon's name," he clarified.

"You mean that by saying it aloud, you will actually summon it to you?"

Severus nodded. "The Dark Lord was quite taken with that idea. He wanted to be feared as one would fear a demon, so we spread the warnings. If everyone was afraid of him, he had power over them. Those that freely speak his name were considered dangerous because they were not afraid and could have raised resistance to his reign."

"Which is exactly why we should be using –"

"Please let me finish," he stated, holding up one hand. "Rumors are only powerful as long as they cannot be disproven, which is why the Dark Lord desired to… back up his claims, so to speak. I told you before that I was recruited because of my abilities, but that was not solely in the realm of potions. The Dark Lord was also quite interested in my knowledge of the Dark Arts and my talent for creating spells."

The girl swallowed hesitantly as she stepped farther into the room, but she said nothing while he momentarily paused.

"I do not, by any means, take pride in my involvement with the Death Eaters prior to seeking out Dumbledore, but suffice it to say that a number of their nastier hexes and curses would not be in existence were I not so eager to prove myself. I've dedicated a number of years to developing the counterspells to all of them, but the damage was done."

He took in an uncomfortable breath and dropped his gaze to the floor. "But the Dark Lord was impressed with my… accomplishments, so he assigned me the task of developing something that would give credence to the rumors regarding the use of his name. He wanted to be able to immediately locate and travel to those that spoke his name, for those individuals were the ones who posed a challenge to his authority."

"Oh my god," Hermione whispered.

"I was never successful, of course," the man qualified. "I had only worked on it a week or so before he lost my loyalty. From then on, I purposely failed in all of my attempts and permanently destroyed any notes that could have been beneficial to the task. When I began teaching, he stopped expecting me to make any further progress, and within a few months, he was gone. Since his return, I've proved my usefulness to him in other means, but I do not, for one moment, suspect that he has abandoned the notion entirely. The Dark Lord was quite avid in recruiting capable witches and wizards, so it is entirely possible that one of them may prove successful in the endeavor."

"But if it's dangerous, why does Dumbledore keep –"

"Because if everyone uses the name, it can no longer be considered taboo, and the Dark Lord will have to let it be," he stated. "But for now, I believe it is a fool's errand to encourage it because I would be willing to stake my entire salary on a single charm being developed before the entire Wizarding World is convinced to change their ways after two decades. I have tried to convince the Order of this, but they aren't terribly keen on taking a Death Eater's word for it."

"You're not a Death Eater," she stated, stepping in front of him.

Snape snorted sadly and shook his head. "I bear his Mark, thus my suggestions are often suspect. Understandably so."

"Not to me," the girl murmured, touching his hand. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I know you often make difficult choices."

He eyed her cautiously before cupping her cheek with his hand. "It is your life attached to mine, so I did need your input."

"Yeah, but did you need it screamed at you?" she smirked, slipping her arms about his waist. Resting her head against his shoulder, she waited a long moment before looking up at him. "I want to give her a chance."

"So I surmised," he sighed. "You do realize that this will be something we must keep from both the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, yes?"

"What else is new?" Hermione shrugged, returning her cheek to his robes.

Placing a hand on the back of her head, the professor exhaled deeply. "I will discuss the matter with Draco tomorrow morning. If his mother is directly colluding with us, he can hardly turn us in. I'm certain the front page of the _Prophet_ will further dissuade him from buying into his aunt's assurances."

She shivered slightly, causing him to hold her more tightly. "I promise I won't use his name again."

"Thank you. If you could, try to convince Potter of the same."

"Can I tell him why?" she asked, drawing away from him.

"With editing, of course," he nodded.

The witch gave him an understanding smile and then crossed around the end of his desk. "May I use a piece of parchment?"

"Second drawer down," Severus stated, glancing back at her. When he noticed her reaching for his quill, he raised his eyebrow. "What is it you're doing?"

Hermione flashed him a grin as she looked up from her task. "I have work to do in the library tomorrow anyway, so I thought I could fit in some extra reading. And it just so happens that someone's already gone through the trouble of providing me an actual list."


	63. Shades of Grey

**A/N: Hi! Sorry for delaying again. My grandfather had a heart attack a few weeks ago, so there's been a lot of trips to the hospital to see him and lots of family gatherings. He's doing much better, but is understandably upset that he isn't able to go home.**

**Thank you for the continued reviews!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 63**

"The whole family," Ginny murmured sadly as she sank against the table. "It's so horrible to think about."

Her roommate nodded in agreement as she prodded at a glop of porridge in her bowl.

"I know it's awful to say," the redhead continued a minute later, "but I'm glad there weren't any children at the house."

"I know," Hermione sighed. "I suppose that is something to be thankful for."

"… ferret-faced bastard knows something."

The two witches glanced up as Harry and Ron claimed seats nearby. The latter nodded lamely while the former continued muttering under his breath.

Ginny set down her spoon and leaned forward to peer around Neville. "What did you say, Harry?"

While he launched into his account of following Draco through Hogsmeade, Hermione let out a slow breath and allowed her gaze to drift in the direction of the Slytherin table. Her stomach turned slightly as she noticed how the blonde pureblood was sitting in silence as he stared at his breakfast. After a few minutes, she could no longer take her friend's bitter ramblings.

"Harry," she snapped, fixing her gaze on his face, "you _don't_ know what happened."

"It's in the bloody paper, Hermione," he growled back. "The entire Wizarding World _knows_ what happened."

"But they don't know who exactly is responsible, and neither do you."

"It was the _Death Eaters_, Hermione," Harry explained, holding up the _Daily Prophet_ where the image of the _Morsmordre_ could be seen floating over the rooftops in Hogsmeade. "They broadcast it themselves."

"Yes, but you're accusing Draco Malfoy of having something to do with it. By your own account, he returned to the castle several hours before the _Morsmordre_ was cast."

"Doesn't mean he wasn't meeting up with Daddy and his friends in the forest beforehand," the boy pressed.

She let out a huff of air and shook her head. "You don't know that, Harry. For all we know, Remus could've been right about what he was doing."

"You mean sucking face with some ugly tramp?" Ron smirked. "I doubt it."

_Well, does anyone know where Lavender was at the time_? Though the comment would have made her feel better for a moment, Hermione knew better than to actually verbalize it. Instead, she took a deep breath and folded her arms. "I'm just saying that you shouldn't start rumors about a person when they may very well be innocent."

"It's Malfoy, Hermione," Harry countered. "I doubt he was even innocent in his stupid mother's womb. You shouldn't waste your breath defending the scum."

While Ron gave a quiet chuckle, the bushy-haired witch closed her eyes briefly and willed herself not to scream or start crying. When she opened them again and looked back across the hall, she noticed with some trepidation that the boy in question had disappeared from the Great Hall.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus paused at the top of the staircase when he witnessed his student escaping the Great Hall. Remembering his conversation with Hermione the night before, he exhaled a slow breath before clearing his throat. When the boy suddenly looked in his direction, he descended one step. "A word."

Draco bore a pained expression but nodded his head and followed him in silence down into the dungeons. Once reaching the office, he slunk into the room with his eyes fixed upon the floor.

After warding the door and casting a _Muffliato_ over the room, the man strode over to his desk. "I had an audience with the Dark Lord yesterday evening. It seemed that he was as surprised by the event in Hogsmeade as you were. The matter has since been addressed."

"Addressed how?" the pureblood murmured, chancing to raise his eyes to his professor.

"In the usual manner," he replied dismissively before pulling open a drawer and grabbing the envelope he had placed there earlier that morning. "I have something for you."

Draco frowned in concern as he took the envelope, and he pinched his lips together at seeing his name penned in his mother's handwriting. Almost immediately, he stuffed it into the pocket of his robes.

"There's something else I believe you should see," Snape murmured quietly as he produced Narcissa's letter to him from his own pocket.

The boy stared at him quizzically as he accepted the folded parchment. His eyes widened upon opening the letter, and after a brief moment he collapsed into the wooden chair with a visible pallor. A few tears formed in his grey eyes as he began muttering while he read. "Mother, no! _Why_ did you do this? No no _no_! Oh gods, _Mother_."

Upon reaching the end of the letter, Draco immediately snapped his watery, panicked gaze to the man standing behind the desk. "Please! Please don't tell him! _Please_! I'll do anything! Anything you want, just don't turn her in! Please, sir!"

Severus took in an uncomfortable breath as he finally claimed his own seat. While watching a tear trickle down the blonde's cheek, he folded his arms to his chest. "I need more information."

"I'll tell you," the boy gasped, leaning forward. "Sir, whatever it is you want from me, I'll tell you."

"If I opt not to turn in this letter, I need to know that I can trust her not to betray me," he replied. "Intentionally or not."

"She won't!" the young wizard exclaimed immediately. "You can trust her, I swear."

"And just what proof is there that I can?"

Draco swallowed slowly and shifted in the chair. "She can hide it."

"Your mother is an Occlumens?"

The boy paused a moment and then nodded. "She taught me."

"Is your father aware of this?"

He shook his head. "No, he doesn't know. Neither does Aunt Bella. Mother told me never to tell anyone, but obviously she trusts you enough to… Erm, she started teaching me Occlumency after my seventh birthday. It was our little secret, she said. Father never found out, because he really wasn't home very much then. He was always at the Ministry or somewhere, and if he did ever ask about anything, she just told him that we had been working on my etiquette. He never asked for any more details."

"You've been occluding since you were _seven_?" Severus muttered in disbelief.

"Well, I don't _know_ if I could do it then," he shrugged. "But she certainly made me start practicing control – emotions, expressions, and things. Every so often, she'd instruct me to lie to Father about something just to see if he could tell I was doing it or not."

"At _seven_?"

Draco let out a sigh and rubbed his face. "Father started talking about the Dark Lord possibly returning, and he left me at home for basic lessons. After a few years, he started taking me with him, so she didn't have time to do it then. She must have known that would happen, I guess. It wasn't until the summer before last year, though, that she started testing me."

"She is a Legilimens as well?"

"She says she's not very good at it, but she can do some. She was scared to try it when I was younger, but after… after Father was summoned again, she said time was running out."

Snape leaned against the side of his chair. "Do you know who instructed her?"

"She taught herself."

The man's eyebrows rose significantly. "In Legilimency as well?"

"That's why she was so nervous to use it on me," the pureblood stated with a small smirk of reminiscence. "She gave me a nosebleed and nearly vomited on me the first few times. I think we both had a migraine for days afterward."

"And you? Can you keep the Dark Lord out?"

Draco grimaced and pulled on a handful of his hair. "Yes."

The spy sat forward immediately and studied his student. "He has tested you?"

"A few times."

"And you actively lied to him?"

The younger wizard sighed. "I hid some things."

"What things?"

"About Granger," he replied. "I hid the… lake because you clearly didn't tell him, and I thought he would punish Mother for what I did. And I hid the gift she gave me at the carriages because… I don't know. I just thought I should."

The Potions Master drew in a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. While the boy's account certainly supported Hermione's suspicions, it did not definitively prove that Narcissa could keep their collusion a secret. If she could train her son to occlude both the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore, the two greatest Legilimens he had encountered in the Wizarding World, he could not completely dismiss her capabilities. And since Hermione wanted to give the woman a chance, he would do it.

"Sir?"

Dropping his hand back to his lap, Severus fixed his expectant gaze on his student.

"Are you going to give him this?" His lower lip trembled slightly as he pushed the letter back across the desk. "He'll kill her if you do. Please, don't… don't kill her."

Hesitating momentarily while he re-folded and stowed the letter away in his robes, the dark-haired wizard shook his head. "I will keep it safe."

"Oh gods, thank you," the boy cried, sinking against the desk. He covered his face for several seconds and then moved further back onto his seat. After a minute, he cleared his throat. "Everything Aunt Bella says about you… is she right?"

"I highly doubt it," he sneered.

Draco swallowed nervously and held one arm with the other. "Which side are you really on?"

_In for a penny, in for a pound_. The spy rolled his shoulders and tilted his head. "I'm on my side."

The blonde stared at him critically. "If you're only working for yourself, then how can I know that you won't betray her?"

"I have had evidence of her betrayal in my possession for twelve hours and have now shown it to you," he stated casually. "Had I wanted to avoid having my own loyalties questioned, I would have surrendered it to the Dark Lord the moment I read it. I can no longer do so without being considered guilty by association."

Malfoy exhaled and squeezed his own arm. "And I can't turn you in, because he'll kill her with you."

"Indeed."

"So I'm stuck with you now, is that it?"

A small smirk appeared on the professor's face. "It would appear so."

"And you really _are_ trying to bring him down?" he pressed. "Like Aunt Bella says?"

Severus shifted in his seat as he considered just how truthful to make his response. "The nature of my position is such that I am simultaneously working for and against each side, which essentially means I work for neither."

The boy's nose wrinkled in confusion. "How the fuck does that answer my question?"

"It means, Draco, that I hold information in my head that could critically wound either side should I choose to reveal it," he fibbed. "But I will not do so until I am assured of my future security. Since neither side appears particularly promising yet, I will keep my mouth shut until there exists no doubt in my mind."

"So you're just playing both until you can side with the winner?"

"As any Slytherin worth his salt would do."

Snorting under his breath, Draco stared at the wall. "Father always talked about how glorious the world would be when the Dark Lord took his rightful place… how we would hold a place of honor at his side… how the House of Malfoy would be even more powerful and more respected than it ever was… and now look at us. Look at what a fucking lie _that_ turned out to be. There's no honor or power or respect or glory, and there never will be, will there?"

When Snape shook his head, the boy scowled and then glared at his left forearm. "He's turned us all into fucking little house-elves, hasn't he? We come running when he calls and bend over backwards to do everything he says. He punishes us if we don't exactly meet his expectations, or if he's angry, or if he's just fucking bored. And not only do we take the abuse while apologizing profusely for our supposed inadequacies, we come back for more! We practically trip over ourselves to please him and thank him for every chance for failure that he gives us! We keep doing it because we think eventually we'll earn his approval for all of time, but we're all just going to eventually wind up with our fucking heads on his wall!"

"Well, you've certainly gained a surprising amount of insight," Severus sighed, resting his elbows upon his desk.

"Except we're worse than bloody elves, aren't we?" Draco murmured softly, meeting his gaze. "We weren't _born_ into our servitude; we fucking _chose_ it."

"Many of us made that decision, yes," the man agreed, "but I would argue that there are a number of individuals entering his service who were not offered an alternative."

The Malfoy heir blinked as he drew in a slow breath. "Yeah, well it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? We're all going to suffer just the same."

A tense silence fell upon the room for several minutes until the blonde finally spoke again. "Mother's right – it doesn't matter who wins because Father's damned us either way."

Seeing the rage burning in the youth's grey eyes, the professor cleared his throat. "Draco… despite any issues that may have arisen between your father and myself, I feel I should tell you that your father was hardly older than yourself when he joined the Dark Lord's circle. It was a logical progression after eighteen years of hearing the same rhetoric from your grandfather. I believe you should also know that the Dark Lord was not always so overt in his displays of displeasure. He was charming and intelligent, and he knew well enough to say everything that you wanted to hear. He was very good at making people believe in him and in everything he promised."

"So you're saying that Father was just an idiot, and that he's sealed our fate by accident?" Draco scoffed.

"Your father may have done many despicable things in his life, but I know that he would never have intentionally hurt you or your mother," he stated truthfully. "Someone wise told me recently that your fate is up to you to decide, and that it would be a mistake to think otherwise. Clearly, your mother has come to a similar conclusion, so I think it would be an insult to her person if you simply resign yourself to Death."

Tears slipped down the blonde's cheeks as he covered his face. "How could you possibly help us?"

"In any manner I can," Snape promised. "I will use whatever influence I have with the Dark Lord, and should he fall, your mother's efforts can only benefit you in the eyes of the Order."

With a small shrug, the young wizard wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "Does Granger know?"

The Potions Master paused as he realized that he had already been far more honest with the boy than he had originally intended. The resemblance between Draco and his younger self was suddenly unmistakable, and it had thrown him. Uncertain as to how the boy would react to knowing that his private affairs had been shared with his former rival, though, he opted to lie. "I have not decided whether or not to tell her."

"Can she keep it safe?"

He took in a deep breath as he leaned back in his chair. "I would not presently be alive if she could not."

Draco slowly nodded as he picked at his sleeve. "If you want to tell her, you can."

Severus opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knock on his door. As his student noticeably flinched, he cleared his throat. "We will continue discussing this after supper on Tuesday. Until then, you do not speak to anyone regarding anything about the Dark Lord or what we have discussed, understand?"

After receiving a nod, the man cancelled the privacy charms. "Enter!"

McGonagall's eyebrows rose slightly as she stepped into the room and caught sight of the pureblood standing up from the wooden chair. She offered him a mumbled word of greeting as he shuffled past her, and once the door was closed behind him, she turned her gaze to her colleague.

The Slytherin reapplied the _Muffliato_ and then folded his arms. "Something bothering you, Minerva?"

"There happens to be a plethora of things bothering me," she grumbled while approaching his desk. "Chief among them is why Remus, Kingsley, and Miss Tonks are presently under the impression that Hermione and _that boy_ are romantically involved when I know damn well that is impossible. Care to explain?"

"Before you start condemning him, Minerva, I swear to you that Draco did not have anything to do with last night's murders."

"As reassuring as that is," the witch stated, "that isn't what I'm asking."

Snape closed his eyes momentarily and rubbed his forehead. "In addition to keeping an eye on the Dark Lord's followers, I am also responsible for monitoring their children. As per Albus's suggestion, Hermione has provided some assistance in that task. As usual the wolf stuck his nose where it did not belong and came up once more with the wrong conclusions. Hermione and I felt, however, that his false knowledge was safer than the truth, and so we may have encouraged the assumption."

"And Malfoy?" she questioned. "Is he aware of this supposed relationship?"

"He is," he nodded. "Draco was previously aware of our circumstances thanks in part to his father and his aunt. He has, at times, sought Hermione out when he is in need of my counsel and is otherwise unable to locate me."

The Deputy Headmistress frowned as she rested her hand on top of the wooden chair. "And just what does he require counsel –"

"Minerva," the man cautioned. "I have promised you that if I feel you need to be aware of something, I will tell you. At this present moment, Draco's fears are not of your concern."

"His fears?" She took in a deep breath and shook her head. "I must say I'm mildly surprised, Severus. You've never truly defended that boy to me in private before."

His dark eyes met hers as he leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "Despite all of his prior posturing and bullying, _that_ boy is still a _child_… a child who spends a significant portion of every day trying to figure out how to protect his mother from the consequences of his father's actions. And with every day that passes, _that_ boy becomes more and more cognizant of the fact that he is utterly powerless to stop it, and that she will die as a result of his inadequacies unless someone stronger steps into help him and a bloody miracle occurs. _That_, Minerva, is why I will defend him to you, and why I will do what I can to keep his name from being slandered any more than it has to be."

McGonagall stood as though she had been frozen in place with her mouth parted and her sad eyes locked onto his face. After a moment, she let out a tired puff of air and closed her eyes. "Severus, I am sorry. I didn't know that… I did not realize that Narcissa was under immediate threat."

"You were not meant to," he muttered while shifting in his chair. "Albus does try to avoid discussing such things with the Order. Humanizing the enemy only serves to muddy the water, making it that much harder to do what is necessary when it is expected. Black and white are simple, but when everything becomes shades of grey… suddenly the line between good and evil becomes entirely arbitrary."

The witch blinked rapidly and wiped her face. Stepping around the edge of his desk, she perched against it and then touched her hand to his cheek. "I think it is mightily unfair to the rest of us that you are so vastly intelligent and yet highly restricted from sharing your insight."

Almost immediately, he turned his head away from her. "Well, the list of those who would be willing to listen is exceptionally short when said insight comes as a result of a lifetime of experience at the darker end of the spectrum."

"Poppycock," she stated, crossing her arms. "I highly doubt that there are many of us who claim to be any lighter than you are. And those who do are honestly full of shite."

Severus donned the briefest of smirks before pulling an empty envelope out from his second drawer.

"Does Hermione know why you're helping him?" Minerva asked while watching him remove the letter from his pocket and slip it into the envelope.

"She knows why he needs my help, yes."

"So that's why she's agreed to feign romance?"

He nodded as he used his wand to charm the envelope closed. "It was her idea actually."

"Really?"

"I don't know why you're surprised," the man commented. "She's always had a penchant for helping the unfortunate and down-trodden."

The witch snorted softly as she pushed away from the desk. "Yes, but there is a bit of a difference between distributing hats and sacrificing your sexual reputation."

"In method perhaps, yes," he murmured. "In intention, no."

She gave a strained smile as she started moving toward the door. "Well, I'm terribly behind in my marking, so –"

"Minerva."

"Yes?" she asked, turning back around to see that he was holding out the envelope to her. "Are you going to tell me what this is?"

"Not yet," Snape replied. "Just keep it safe for now."

"Alright, I'll put it with the other one." After slipping the item into her pocket, she cleared her throat and glanced back at him. "You know, I did always enjoy having Narcissa in my classes. She was one of my best students, and I was highly disappointed when she was not allowed to make use of her talents."

Upon reaching the door, the woman paused briefly. "Would I be wrong in assuming henceforth that Draco is his mother's son?"

The Slytherin Head inhaled deeply and shook his head. "No. You would not be wrong."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"No flobberworms this time?" Hermione asked as she stepped into the Room of Requirement.

The dark-haired wizard snorted quietly and shook his head.

"Not a flying lesson, right?" she stated hopefully as she noticed that the ceiling was not unusually high. "It's not a Thursday."

Severus fixed her with a trying look and crossed his arms. "Just for that, I ought to change the schedule."

"Oh, please don't," the girl pleaded, dropping her shoulders. "I ate far more meatloaf than I would have if I had known I would be flying. I really don't want to see it again."

With a grimace, he rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't fret, Granger. I am no more inclined to see your supper reappear than you are."

"Okay." She perked up slightly as she glanced about the room. "What are we doing then?"

"Training," the man responded cryptically as he removed his teaching robes and cast them over a chair. "But first, we need to have a conversation."

Hermione raised one eyebrow as she began unfastening her school robes. "Alright. What about?"

"I wanted you to know that you were correct regarding Narcissa Malfoy," he explained. "I spoke with Draco yesterday morning."

Her eyes brightened noticeably. "So she _is_ an Occlumens? And we can trust her?"

"She is an Occlumens," Snape replied. "Whether or not we can trust her remains to be seen."

"But we're giving her a chance?"

He nodded before adding, "As foolish as that may be."

"What about the letter?" she asked. "What do we do with that? If it falls into the wrong hands…"

"If it fell into the wrong hands, we would all be dead," the wizard stated, "but if it were destroyed, there would be no evidence beyond our testimony that it existed and that Narcissa Malfoy does not deserve to spend the rest of her life in Azkaban. Bearing that in mind, I have removed it from my possession and have given it to Minerva for safekeeping."

"She knows about Narcissa?"

The Slytherin clasped his hands behind his back as he answered. "Minerva knows that she is in danger, yes, but she is not aware of her duplicity. The letter is in an envelope that can only be opened by myself except in the event of my demise, at which point only she can open it. I took similar measures regarding the whereabouts of your parents."

Her eyes sought out his as she moved closer to him. "So if you and I… don't make it, she can help take care of them?"

When he nodded slowly, the girl flashed a grin and briefly slipped her arms around him. He contrived a sigh until she released him and then cleared his throat. "It appears you've made an impression on Draco."

"Well, I did punch him once," Hermione smirked up at him. "But I'm sure you're referring to something else."

"Indeed," the man replied. "He gave me permission to tell you about his mother. I think he trusts you."

A small smile played at her lips as she took a step backwards. "He doesn't really have anyone else, and it's not like I can tell anyone else. If he trusts you, he has to trust me."

"It's more of a feat than you make it sound," Severus chided before rolling his shoulders. "Have you discovered anything of interest while in the library?"

The witch let out a deep sigh and scratched her head. "I don't know. I managed to find most of the books yesterday, but I was hesitant to take any of them with me. I figured there would be a record somewhere, and if anybody checked… well, I don't know _why_ they might, but if they did…"

"It is wise to be cautious."

"I thought as much," she mumbled. "So I decided that I would just read them while I'm there. Anyway, I think he's looking for something that has to do with wands. Two of the books, at least, have to do with wandlore. One of them, _At the Heart of Magic_, is rather poorly translated from German, I think, but the original was written by Igor Gregorovitch in the late 17th century, who must be an ancestor of the current wandmaker. I haven't gotten through much of it because the grammar gave me a slight headache, but the other one – _The Wizard, or The Wand?_ – is rather fascinating so far. It's a rather detailed discussion about whether magical success is more dependent upon the wand or the wizard. The wand chooses the wizard, except in the cases where the wizard builds the wand. So is magical strength really dependent upon the wizard, the wand, or the wandmaker should the wandmaker not be the wizard?"

"Wandlore," Snape repeated, running a hand through his hair. "And the others?"

"Well, _Gefeoht_ appears to be nearly as old as the school and is quite massive," the girl sighed. "I had to levitate it onto the table because it was too heavy to even pick up, let alone hold. It looked like an index of notable duels or battles over several centuries, so maybe if we had a better idea of what he was looking for, I could do a targeted approach. And I didn't get a chance to look at anything else."

He nodded in understanding. "It's a start, at least. See if you can discern any common threads that are not so bloody broad, and if whatever it is that the Dark Lord is looking for is not well-covered, I do not think it is a far leap to make that he may go after a more primary source of information."

"More primary," she stated. "You mean an actual wandmaker, don't you? Ollivander."

"Or Gregorovitch, or Baguette, or Poluchka, or Virgula," the wizard shrugged. "Why stop at just one? Why not collect the whole set? If you control those who are capable of creating the technology that allows the majority of individuals to apply their magic, then you essentially control the application of magic."

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she considered his conclusion. "Oh… my… god. If he controls the wand supply, he can control who is or is not eligible to purchase wands. Children who aren't of pure enough families or of families that have opposed him could be barred from receiving them, which means they won't be able to learn how to use their magic because you have to have a wand to attend Hogwarts!"

"Forget Hogwarts," he grumbled. "Children have to have a wand in order to focus their magic at all. Entering into adolescence, with all of its bloody emotional and hormonal changes, without having any practice in controlling their magic is exceptionally dangerous. If I as a babe set a sodding sofa on fire, imagine what devastation or damage an uncontrolled teenager might be capable of producing by accident."

"Holy…" She trailed off as she gripped two handfuls of her hair. "Do you think that is what he intends?"

Severus let out a soft sigh. "Honestly, I rather doubt he has considered all of this yet. Of course, it is the desperate hope of the majority of his followers that those of supposed lesser blood will be barred from practicing magic, but I doubt that many of them have spent any time considering the ramifications of such restrictions."

"I doubt many of them care," Hermione spat. He nodded once in response, but said nothing. After a tense moment, the young witch took in a deep breath and flicked her eyes to his face. "What are you going to do?"

The wizard snorted sadly and rubbed his face. "I suppose I will have to somehow find a way to convince the Headmaster that the Order should keep a closer eye on Ollivander and the others without revealing either Narcissa's involvement or the motivation behind your present research."

Wincing at the thought of the task, the girl shifted on her feet. "How do you think you're going to accomplish that?"

"Well," he replied, scratching his forehead, "I inadvertently faked one summoning this term, so I might as well do so intentionally."

"He won't know the difference?"

Snape shrugged his shoulders. "He may request a Pensieve viewing."

"Does he not trust you to tell him everything?" she asked with a scowl. "That's ridiculous."

"Often it's under the guise of making certain I did not miss any subtle clues," he replied before donning a small smirk, "but given our present circumstances, one could argue that he has good reason _not_ to trust the extent of my disclosure."

Hermione blushed slightly as she raised her chin. "Yes, but we're _only_ doing it –"

"For the 'Greater Good'?" the man interrupted with a raised eyebrow. "He would only argue the same."

The young woman narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. "Is there a reason why you're playing Devil's advocate?"

"Merely to remind you that while Albus Dumbledore is a manipulative, scheming bastard, he is still acting in the manner which he believes is best suited to bringing a favorable conclusion to the war." The Slytherin took in a deep breath and flexed his hand. "Despite what I may have claimed to Draco, I never kept anything regarding my service to the Dark Lord or the Order hidden from the Headmaster prior to last term. Though I have not necessarily agreed with all of his decisions or directions, I did nothing to disobey him because I recognized that I was nothing more than a tool at his disposal."

"But you're not –"

"Please allow me to finish," he stated, holding up his hand. "I have made more mistakes and bad decisions in my life than anyone could ever attempt to count, and despite all of the horrible wrongs I have done, Albus gave me the opportunity to make reparations. I am not foolish enough to believe that he did it for my benefit, but that he was willing to do it at all was enough to secure my loyalty.

"I have suspected since the beginning of my duplicity that my life would be forfeit upon the conclusion of the war, and until six months ago I had accepted that result. I will _not_, however, accept sentencing you to such a fate alongside me. I have already contributed to the death or suffering of a number of innocent persons, and I have no wish to add to my tallies. For _that_ reason, I have kept a number of secrets from the Headmaster, but as it stands, I shall not betray him any further than I feel is absolutely necessary."

Hermione inhaled slowly and pinched her lips together as she took in his comments. A slight ache developed in her chest as he spoke, and she had to fight the urge to throw her arms about him once again. It pained her to know just how little he regarded his own life, and in the back of her mind she realized that he must have felt something similar whenever she had reflected upon her own death.

When she was certain that he had finished speaking, she swallowed heavily. "Severus, why are you telling me this?"

The wizard cleared his throat and fixed his dark eyes on her face. "Because until six months ago, I was fully prepared to sacrifice everything for Dumbledore and the Order, and should my use as a spy come to an end, to publicly renounce my allegiance to the Dark Lord. In the interest of keeping myself, and subsequently you, alive, I believe it would be best to maintain our appearance of support to both sides. I am taking a chance on Narcissa and her son, and Minerva as well, but I do not want to risk further suspicion from the Dark Lord or from Albus."

"I'm not sure that I understand what you're saying we should do," the girl frowned.

"I do not think there is anything further to do for Albus currently," he answered, "but in regards to pleasing the Dark Lord, you and I have thus far done the minimum. To our credit, we can claim that we are doing what we can without attracting attention, but as the Dark Lord has taken residence in the now Unplottable Malfoy Manor, he will have Bellatrix whispering in his ear with far greater frequency. While he will likely dismiss her suspicions as a product of our rivalry for the moment –"

"Eventually he will take her seriously," Hermione finished glumly. "So we should up the ante, you mean, so that you will have more credibility with him."

"So that _we_ will have more credibility," Snape corrected quietly. "Until he is destroyed, your future depends primarily upon staying in the Dark Lord's favor. We must continue to prove to him that he can truly rely upon you as one of his, and not just because I commanded you to do so."

The girl closed her eyes and let out an uncomfortable breath. "So I need to pretend that my personal allegiance has fully abandoned Harry and shifted to him? Will he buy it, given that I, as a Muggleborn, would be betraying my entire upbringing?"

"The Dark Lord cares less about purity than he does about power," the Slytherin replied. "We will show him that you are a powerful witch, and it will only boost his ego to know that he has you under his control willingly."

"But isn't it a bit suspicious that I've suddenly switched sides?" she repeated, staring up at him in concern.

"Perhaps to some," the man shrugged as he slowly stepped closer to her. "But then again, I've had you entirely at my beck and call for half a year."

There was a small hitch in her breathing as he gently placed his fingers beneath her chin and leaned down to murmured in her ear. "I've told you secrets, shown you care, and given you pleasure. I've opened your eyes to the darker underpinnings of the Order and to the glories sold by the Dark Lord. I've convinced you that the Dark Lord shall value your worth, while Dumbledore would only view you as a pawn. I've taken you under my wing and into my bed… seduced you with the prospect of knowledge and magical prowess until that tiny voice in the back of your mind that wanted to trust me became the only thought in your mind. You distrust Dumbledore… you are devoted to me in mind and body… and you will be swayed to believe in the magnanimous power of the Dark Lord."

Hermione swallowed anxiously and balled her hands into fists against her side. "Severus."

"Yes?" he whispered.

"If you did not intend to dedicate the remainder of the evening to physically satisfying the bond," she stated carefully, "I would back away quickly."

Coughing loudly, the wizard immediately snapped to his full height and placed several feet of distance between them.

Closing her eyes briefly, she took in several deep breaths and worked to quell the arousal that had developed in response to his exchange. Once she felt she had been successful in that regard, she adopted an expression of censure. "Honestly!"

"My apologies," Severus stammered with a grimace. "Though, do you feel it has merit?"

"Oh, _it_ has merit," she snorted with a roll of her eyes. "So much merit that if I weren't more certain of your present leanings I might think that was your bloody plan all along! You have an uncanny ability to supplement the truth with just enough suggestion to twist it into something entirely the opposite. It's brilliant, but frightening all the same."

Exhaling loudly, the girl amusedly shook her head upon noticing his smug expression. "Alright then, Mr. _Seducer_ – just what _did_ you have in mind for this evening?"

After giving her a small smirk, the professor crossed his arms. "The Dark Lord has expressed the desire to see you become a competent warrior. Everything I have taught you until now will benefit you, but one cannot expect to defeat an army of Death Eaters with Stinging Hexes or Jelly-leg Jinxes or Cutaneous Boil Curses. Needless to say, the curses I intend for you to practice this evening shall not be shared with Potter."

"Because it's Dark Magic?" she asked with a shiver.

"Because I created them, and the Dark Lord is exceptionally aware of that fact," Snape responded. "Others may consider these Dark Magic, yes, but not if used against a dark wizard. It's all about perception and intent, isn't it? A tickling charm, for instance, doesn't seem dark, does it?"

"Not really, no."

"But if it's applied for hours on end, it can be just as agonizing and demoralizing as the Cruciatus," he stated.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "I suppose it could be."

"Oh, I assure you it is." As she looked at him in concern, he attempted to suppress the memory of being caught unawares in the fourth-floor lavatory and spending half an hour writhing on the floor while Potter and Black took turns casting the charm. Despite the twenty-odd years that had passed, he still disliked spending any time in that particular bathroom and plainly avoided it except in the case of student emergency.

"I'm sorry," the girl mumbled.

Severus sighed loudly and shook his head. "I do wish you would stop apologizing for things that occurred before your parents even thought about reproducing."

"Okay, fine. What are we starting with, then?"

The Potions Master dipped his head and then gestured to where the Room had provided several fabric dummies. "We'll begin with the Sectumsempra."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Mr. Malfoy," Severus stated without looking up from his cauldron. "Have a seat."

The blonde boy took in a deep breath after closing the office door behind him and then made his way to the familiar wooden chair. While a handful of minutes passed in relative silence, he grew increasingly nervous and began bouncing his right foot against the floor.

"My, aren't we agitated this evening?" his Head of House quipped upon finally claiming his own chair.

"A bit, yeah," Draco snapped, crossing his arms. After a minute of returning the man's stare, he dropped his hands back to his lap. "Have you determined anything about the… the _extract_?"

The professor leaned back in his chair. "I will attempt to concentrate the sample as much as possible over the next few days. Unfortunately, there is no accurate way to discern if it will, in fact, be lethal, since your aunt has blinded us."

"You can't test it?" the pureblood asked with a frown.

"On rodents, perhaps," he shrugged. "But a dose that kills a rat may not necessarily kill a man… especially one as powerful as Albus Dumbledore."

Malfoy dropped his gaze to his hands for several seconds. "How long?"

"Four days," Snape replied. "Any longer, and I run the risk of destabilizing the toxin, which would render it useless."

The boy nodded slowly before finally flicking his eyes toward his mentor. "And then what?"

The dark-haired wizard inhaled deeply and folded his arms to his chest. "Saturday morning, there is a staff meeting. He often takes a tea service. He won't notice if I slip something in his teacup."

"So we'll know then?"

Severus shook his head. "No, it is a slow to act, which will prevent anyone from determining the exact time of poisoning. It could take a day, or a week, or a month."

"Okay," he breathed, fisting his hands in his school robes. "And what if it fails?"

"Before I answer that," the man stated while leaning forward, "I need to know that you have no residual loyalty to your dear Aunt Bellatrix."

Draco looked to the desk top and gave a shake of his head. "Not anymore."

"Then you will allow her to take the fall."

The blonde narrowed his eyes in confusion. "How?"

The spy cleared his throat. "If I feign ignorance of your mission to the Dark Lord, how will she respond?"

"She'll rub your face in it that she knew and you didn't."

"And she'll boast of her personal involvement," Snape added. "The Dark Lord will know of her full role. Should the poison fail, I will be able to argue to the Dark Lord that your failure was entirely due to her involvement. And since the Dark Lord is already disappointed in her drawing undue attention, as evidenced by the most recent copies of the _Daily Prophet_, he will be likely to take it out on her."

"Likely?" the boy gulped.

"There is never absolute certainty with the Dark Lord. _Likely_ is the best chance you have."

Though he bore an uncomfortable expression, Draco nodded in understanding. "So as far as he and Aunt Bella are concerned, I never spoke with you?"

"Dodged me at every turn, you little shit," Severus sneered with a tilt of his head.

The young wizard gave a small smirk and then scratched his head. "What do we do in the meanwhile?"

"We work on further developing your skills as an Occlumens."

"But I already –"

"Possess the basic ability to block intrusion, yes," the man interrupted. "But if you expect to live beyond your seventeenth birthday, you will need further instruction."

Malfoy's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

"The Mark burns now because you are not of age," Snape explained, flattening his hands against the desk. "With your present mindset, however, it will continue to burn on after you reach your majority as it will detect your disloyalty to the Dark Lord. I don't think I need to describe what might occur in that instance."

"Oh gods," the boy gasped while staring down at his arm in horror. "This fucking thing _knows_? Oh gods! What if _he_ knows everything I –"

The Order spy leaned across the desk to yank on the blonde's hand and catch his attention. "It does not know _anything_ yet. The magic requires willingness to serve in order for it to set in, but as you are still underage, you cannot freely consent to anything. He will suspect nothing until June, at which point you can be damned sure he will examine it."

"You think I'm suddenly going to kiss his feet and sing his praises?" Draco exclaimed in disbelief. "It may come as a shock to you, but I'm still going to hate his fucking guts come June!"

"I am aware of that, yes," the man sighed, releasing the boy's wrist, "which is why we're going to build your skills in the coming months. The Mark can take up to twelve hours to effectively sink in, so for twelve hours you are going to have to shut out every embittered thought you have regarding the Dark Lord and your service to him. For twelve hours, you are going to make yourself believe that you want to serve him… that serving him is the only way to keep your mother alive… that you want to please him. Once the magic is settled, your loyalty will be validated and you may continue breathing and subtly working to dismantle him."

His student let out a slow breath and blinked several times. "You… you can help me do that?"

Severus gave a solid nod of his head. "I can."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

_Could they not find anyone better to translate this stupid book?_ With a groan, Hermione set down the book and rubbed her eyes. She had been reading in the library since her Arithmancy class had been dismissed nearly an hour before and already she was developing a slight headache. With her classes and infirmary schedule, she had had little time to dedicate to the task since she had discussed it with Snape on Monday night. As such, she was no farther along in narrowing down what it was that Voldemort researching.

The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention, and she glanced up to notice a familiar redheaded wizard standing sheepishly at the end of her table. Surprised, she raised an eyebrow in question.

"Erm, hi," Ron mumbled.

"Hello," the girl replied succinctly.

"I… erm… was wondering if we could talk," he stated.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "Well, if you're planning to shout at me, you can stuff it and go find Lavender. I don't want to get kicked out by Madam Pince."

"I'm not going to," the boy sighed. "I just wanted… well, firstly, I wanted to apologize."

Her eyes widened significantly. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, it wasn't really your fault that you… erm… that I didn't hear you knock, and that you… erm… saw Lavender –"

"I _really_ don't need the reminder."

Ron blushed and dropped his eyes to the table. "Yeah. Well, anyway, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry that I acted like a prat. I should have known that you wouldn't tell everyone… and really, I didn't mind that they knew, but Lavender –"

"I get it, Ronald," the witch grumbled. "Can we just not talk about anything that happened that night?"

"Right… okay." He shifted on his feet awkwardly and briefly met her eyes. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

Hermione rested her elbows on the table in front of her and shrugged her shoulders. "I guess so."

"Oh, good," the redhead exclaimed in relief as he dropped into the chair across from her. "Harry said you were really mad at me, and I thought maybe I had cocked things up for good. Erm, no pun intended."

"Oh god!" she cried, burying her face in her hands. "Honestly, Ronald!"

"Shh!" he warned, casting a glance over his shoulder to see the librarian glaring in their direction. "You'll get yourself kicked out."

Dropping her hands to the table, the girl leaned forward and glared at him as she hissed under her breath. "And it would still be _your_ fault, you arse! I swear on all that is holy, if you _ever_ say that word around me again, I will hex _yours_!"

"Okay, okay," Ron laughed, holding up his hands. "I promise I won't... And I really am sorry for acting like such a prick."

Drawing in a sharp breath, Hermione took notice of the grin spreading across his face and kicked him swiftly in the shin. "Last warning, Ronald. Next time it will be an _Engorgio_."

"Merlin!" he cried, rubbing his leg beneath the table. "I think you get scarier with time."

"And don't you forget it," she stated with a smirk. "Now what else did you wish to discuss?"

"Erm, well, about the Apparition lessons… I'm sorry for that, too. It was my fault that Mum and Dad banned me from taking them." The boy scratched the back of his neck. "And Harry's told me why you aren't taking them, so I guess I shouldn't be so angry about it. It's really true that the Ministry can track that?"

The witch flicked her eyes about the nearly empty library before nodding her head.

"Bloody hell," he mumbled.

"My sentiments exactly," Hermione snorted.

Shaking his head in frustration, Ron leaned against the edge of the table. "So does this mean we're friends again?"

"I wasn't aware that we had ever stopped being friends," she stated. "Were you?"

"No, I guess not," he replied. "I really shouldn't have taken Lavender's word over yours. I mean, you're _Hermione_."

"Well spotted," the brunette grinned. "But she _is_ your girlfriend."

The wizard gave a small shrug. "I suppose."

His friend narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean you _suppose_?"

"Dunno… she is a bit annoying really."

_A bit?_ Hermione sighed lightly and rubbed her eyebrow. "Ron, _tell_ me that you aren't planning to break up with her."

"Well, I've considered it," he said.

"Ronald!" she hissed, slapping the table top before casting an apologetic look to Madam Pince.

"What are _you_ so upset about?" the boy stammered. "You don't even like her!"

The girl let out a huff of air as she sat back in her chair. "Whether I like her or not is irrelevant. She's had a thing for you since first year, for Merlin's sake. You can't just mess around with a girl and then drop her a moment later."

"It's not a _moment_ later," he protested.

"You were pushing her up against the side of the greenhouse not three hours ago!"

His face flushed in response to the comment, and he grimaced. "You saw that?"

"Half the class saw it," she snorted. "In case you hadn't realized it, it's fairly easy to see through a greenhouse since the walls aren't entirely opaque!"

"Ugh… bollocks." Suddenly realizing which word had escaped his mouth, the gangly wizard quickly slapped his hands between his legs and stammered, "I swear, Hermione, I didn't mean to say that!"

A bright laugh escaped the witch as she shook her head. "I'm not going to hex you, Ron. I may hit you, though, if you do wrong by Lavender. Just because she and I don't get along doesn't mean I want to see her hurt… and it doesn't mean that I can't tell how much she likes you."

"But 'Mione," he sighed, relaxing his position and returning his hands to the table. "She calls me _Won-won_. It's bloody embarrassing."

"That is pretty bad," Hermione giggled. "Have you simply tried asking her not to?"

"Well, erm… no, not really."

"Well, ask her to stop, and maybe she will. And if she doesn't, just start calling her Lav-Lav. She'll stop then."

"Lav-Lav?" The young wizard wrinkled his nose at the name. "Yeah, that ought to get her to put a sock in it. Is that honestly what you call her?"

"Sometimes," she smiled_. When I'm not calling her Lavvy-poo._

He let out a soft breath and stared blankly at one of the nearest stacks. "First year? Seriously?"

The girl snickered and nodded her head. "I lived with her for five years, Ron. I know exactly how long she's been practicing signing 'Lavender Weasley' in her diary."

A dopey grin appeared on his face as he sank back against his chair.

"Erm, Ronald?" Hermione asked somewhat impatiently a moment later. "Was there something you needed to discuss besides your apologies?"

"What? Oh! Erm, yeah." Clearing his throat, the redhead straightened in his seat and dropped his voice. "It's about Harry."

_Well if Ronald noticed it, there has to be something wrong with him._ The girl took in a deep breath and crossed her arms on the table. "What about him?"

Ron glanced about the room and leaned closer to her. "He's been having nightmares again. Seamus sleeps like a bloody rock, but Neville and I just about pissed ourselves the other night when Harry started shouting in his sleep."

"Has he told anyone?"

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "I asked him about it the next morning, and he said he would talk to Dumbledore."

"Have you asked him if he actually did that?" she questioned quietly despite knowing what the answer would be. Of the two of them, she was the one who had always done the follow-up routine with Harry.

He shook his head and then scratched his cheek. "He talks in his sleep, you know. Most of the time, I don't quite hear what he says, and when I start listening, he doesn't do it again. But Monday night… erm… well, Lav and I met up after Quidditch practice, and it was late when we snuck back into the – oh, don't use your Prefect stare, 'Mione. Filch nearly caught us, and then the Fat Lady gave us a royal bollocking before letting us in."

Hermione sighed and then gestured for him to continue.

"Anyway, the blokes were all asleep by the time I got up to the room. I was just about to climb into bed when Harry started muttering again, and I was curious, so I crept closer to see what he was saying." Ron paused just long enough to irritate her before speaking again. "Most of it was all muffled, so I couldn't catch it. So I thought maybe I could ask him because people sometimes answer questions in their sleep. Fred and George used to always sneak in Percy's room and –"

"The point, Ronald."

"Oh, right. Sorry." He cleared his throat. "I asked him what he was doing, and he said that he had to find them. And –"

"What?" she interrupted. "Find what?"

"I was _getting_ to that, Hermione," the wizard grumbled. After she gave a quiet word of apology, he sighed. "So I asked him what he needed to find. He didn't answer, though, and I nearly gave up, but just as I was walking away, he kind of moaned and then said something that sounded like 'Orcrooks'."

"Orcrooks?" she repeated. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"I think so."

Frowning, the girl slouched and pondered his story. "He said it during a nightmare?"

"I dunno if it was a nightmare that time," he shrugged. "I mean he was talking, but he wasn't really panicking or sweating or anything. He was definitely dreaming though."

"Could it just have been a normal dream?" she asked. "He probably still has those, you know."

"Oh, probably, yeah," the ginger boy stated. "It could have been. I mean, it doesn't really mean anything to me. The only thing I could think of was your cat, but it could have just been some garbled word."

Hermione donned an odd smile. "I don't think either of you would willingly go looking for Crooks."

"Hey, I might," he argued. "You know, if you were like on your deathbed or something… or if we had to find the mangy thing to defeat You-Know-Who. I'd probably do it then."


	64. Natural Balance

**A/N: Uff da. I know it's been a heck of a long time since the last update, and I apologize. Thank you for all of you expressing concerns or waiting patiently. And for those of you jumping to my defense, you definitely made my day. I have been running around like a chicken with her head cut off this past semester and haven't had a ton of brain power left when I do get a moment to myself. Even now, I really should be packing up my apartment since I'm moving in a few weeks, but alas! I'd rather work on my stories. **

**A lot of you wished good thoughts toward my grandpa, so thank you very much! It has been incredible to see him over these last few weeks as he suddenly seems five or ten years younger. His mental fog is gone; he's 40 pounds lighter; he can see better; he can hear without either of his hearing aids; his blood sugar levels are regulating themselves; he's been zipping about the nursing home with his walker ("only because it's the law" there); and his doctors cleared him to go home. He was definitely given a second chance at life and he seems determined to make the most of it. So he's requested open heart surgery to alleviate as much of the damage as they can. He's tentatively scheduled for the 20th, so if you would like to send more positive thoughts over the next fortnight, I would be entirely grateful.**

**Anyway... onto what you've all been waiting for...**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 64**

"Where is _he_, Hermione?" Harry snapped, folding his arms.

The witch looked up from her book and raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I _know_ you're hiding him!" he hissed. "Now tell me where he is!"

"Who?" she asked. "I don't know what you're –"

"Your stupid cat!"

"Crooks? Why do you –"

"I need to find him!" the boy declared as he began tearing through her wardrobe. "He's working for Voldemort!"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Hermione shouted, snatching up clothes that he had tossed to the floor. "Harry! Harry, stop! Leave my things alone! Please –"

Her words died in her throat when he threw her up against the wall without warning. His eyes were frightfully dark as he growled in her face. "_You're_ working for him, too. I know it."

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "You don't understand. I'm not –"

"You're a _liar_, Hermione," Harry snarled. "Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Do you think I'm _stupid_? You must if you thought I would never notice you spying on me… or notice you sneaking off to let Snape fuck you. I never would have pegged you for a Death Eater's whore!"

"He's not a Death Eater!" the witch hissed as she pushed him away. "And you have no right to say –"

"I can say whatever I want," he replied, grabbing hold of her arm. "_I'm_ the Chosen One."

"Harry, please! You're hurting me!"

"Good."

"Harry!"

He leaned in close to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to find Crooks, and when I do, it's the end for him. And then I'll find your ferret-faced friend… and then the Greasy Git… and then I'll enjoy tearing out your heart!"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"No!"

Hermione startled awake at the sound of her own voice. Breathing heavily, she glanced around the darkened room and at her two sleeping roommates. As her heart raced, she rubbed her face with both hands and then let out a deep sigh.

_It was just a dream. A horrible dream. Harry doesn't know anything about the bond. He doesn't know. He wouldn't hurt me. He'd listen to me, because he's my friend. _

"Merlin," she whispered before rolling onto her side. She stared at the rumpled ball of fur beside her pillow and then rested her hand atop it. When two green eyes blinked open, she cleared her throat gently. "You're not working for Dark Lord, are you?"

Crookshanks flicked his tail in response and then closed his eyes.

The witch snorted tiredly as she stroked her hand over his side. "I didn't think you were, you know. I just wanted to… to make sure."

The half-Kneazle purred quietly and nestled deeper against her arm.

"Well, at least one of us will get some sleep," she muttered bitterly.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"You appear quite comfortable up there."

Hermione snorted loudly and peered down from where she was hovering ten feet above the ground. "I have the distinct impression that will change rather shortly."

"Indeed," the wizard sneered. "Perhaps another turn about the room?"

She pinched her lips together as she eyed his form. "You're going to hex me, aren't you?"

A smile appeared on his face before he shook his head. "I have no intention of hexing you."

"Why don't I believe you?" the girl muttered while pushing forward. As she adopted a gentle pace, she flicked her eyes back to him. "What is the lesson today?"

Severus cleared his throat. "The most important aspect of flying."

The witch rolled her eyes. "You've said that about every factor we've discussed so far. Falling… control… focus… awareness… defense… reaction time… They were _all_ the most important aspects."

"I do not deny my claims," he shrugged. "Consider a situation in which you need but lack the knowledge or skills relevant to a particular factor. Suddenly, that's the most important one. When considered all together, they are of equal importance, but should the knowledge of one be what determines life or death…"

"Point taken," she sighed. "So… what _is_ the important factor of the day?"

"Balance."

Hermione blanched as images of Quidditch players standing on or hanging from their brooms entered her head.

"What keeps you and the broom airborne is the balance you manage to achieve with it," the professor explained, ignoring her subtle display of fear. "If you were to move forward a few inches, the broom would wobble. Likewise if you were to move backward a similar distance. To fly successfully, you must find the balance prior to take-off. The more experienced a flyer, the less time it takes to find it. Based upon my observation, I would assume you didn't have to spare it a moment's thought this evening."

The witch tilted her head as she considered the statement. Startlingly enough, he was correct. She had not given it any consideration before rising into the sky. _Does that mean I'm an experienced flyer? I would love to see the looks on Harry's and Ron's faces if I were to ask them that question._

"That being said," Severus murmured as he withdrew his wand. "Sometimes things occur mid-flight which require a bit of readjusting."

"What?" she squeaked, looking up just in time to see a flash of light leave the tip of his wand. A second later, it hit her broom, slicing off the first half-inch of the stick. A panicked cry escaped her mouth as the broom began to wobble beneath her weight. Without warning, it bucked and caught her off balance. Falling to the ground, she barely managed to cast an _Arresto Momentum_, and as such, hit the cushioned floor with a fair amount of speed.

"You didn't adjust," he stated simply as he stood over her.

Hermione let out a groan and propped herself up on her elbows. "I think it's just a couple of bruises, but _thank_ you so much for your concern."

The wizard raised one eyebrow in response. "You possess the ability to slow your fall. You could have prevented yourself from any injury. We may be focusing on balance this evening, but you should not neglect your prior lessons."

The girl made a show of casting a diagnostic charm, and when it revealed no injuries, she rolled her eyes. "You said you weren't going to hex me."

"I did not hex _you_. I hexed your broom," he argued, folding his arms. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he donned a small smirk. "You can glare at me just as well from the air."

"Fine," she snapped. After pushing up to her feet, she stalked over to where the broomstick had fallen and scooped it up.

"Before you ascend, can you feel a difference?"

The witch eyed him with confusion, but then closed her eyes and focused on the slight throbbing of magic coursing through the wooden handle. "I think so."

"What do you feel?"

"It's a… it's like it's humming. Not as much as the wards do, but… I think it's slightly more agitated than it was before." She snorted once and glanced at him. "Is it mad at you?"

"Don't be absurd, Granger," Severus sighed. "No, the higher thrum is due to the change in concentration. The broom is smaller than it was a moment ago, but still possesses the same amount of magical energy. That is partly why it becomes unruly. That, and the imbalance with your positioning."

"Huh," she grunted. After curiously examining the object, she let out a quick breath and remounted the broom. With intense focus, she kicked off of the ground.

The wizard watched until she had reestablished her earlier height and pace and then carefully aimed another slicing hex at the tip of the broom.

"Ohhhh!" Hermione cried as the vehicle once again became unsteady. "Oh god!"

"Panicking is not the solution," the man called. "You need to focus on the broom and find balance."

Biting down on her bottom lip, she gripped the handle so hard that her knuckles turned white. As she held her breath, she slowly slid backwards until the broom calmed again.

"Good!" Snape exclaimed after she gave a relieved cry. He allowed her a moment to enjoy her success before repeating the exercise.

As another inch disappeared from handle in front of her, the girl whimpered loudly. Though she attempted to respond in the same fashion she had previously, the broomstick bucked violently, causing her to slip sideways. Her heart leaped into her throat as the broom and gravity collaborated against her.

"Whoa-fuck!" she shouted as another hearty kick resulted in her being thrown into the air. As she came down, her legs missed the stick, but she managed to catch herself by the underarms. With her legs dangling in the air, Hermione grit her teeth and strengthened her hold on the broom. Digging deep into her determination to stay airborne, she groaned loudly as she gradually began pulling herself back onto the broomstick. Once she had succeeded, she lay panting along the length of the finally level broom.

"Holy fuck," she gasped.

The professor donned a smirk at her use of profanity and then cleared his throat. "You're doing well, Granger. Now, let's see if you can fly while it's damaged."

"Ohhhkay," the witch mumbled before slowly sitting upright. As she thrust forward, she could immediately feel the difference as it took far more focus to keep the broom steady. It took several minutes to get used to the feeling, but she did eventually relax.

Once he was certain that she had again become comfortable on the broom, Severus raised his wand and cast a different hex. A second later, the tail of her broom ignited.

"Oh god!" Hermione screamed as the vehicle began to spin while black smoke poured out of it. "Oh god, oh god!"

"How do you react, Granger?"

Hearing him yell, the girl pulled together her focus and withdrew her wand. With a shaking hand, she quickly turned her torso enough to cast an _Aguamenti_. Water blasted out of the tip of her wand, soaking the tail and extinguishing the flames. Though the smoke had turned to steam, the broom continued to spin. Gripping it again with two hands, she instinctively leaned her upper body in the opposite direction. The rotations immediately began to slow until the broom once again flew straight.

With a triumphant expression on her face, Hermione shot off in a brisk jaunt about the room.

"Excellent!"

Her eyes widened significantly at hearing his praise, and she could not keep a broad smile off of her face as she descended to the ground. Every limb was quivering with a mixture of adrenaline and exertion, and she sank to the floor the moment she dismounted the broom.

There was a grin on his face as he sheathed his wand and approached her. "You may take as much time as you need to recover."

Turning her head, the young witch glanced up at him. "Are you going to make me do that again?"

Snape shook his head. "I think you've had enough excitement for the evening."

"So we're done?"

"I said no such thing."

"Of course not," Hermione snorted softly and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply, she pushed herself up from the floor. "Alright, what's next? More balancing?"

The wizard gave a nod and wordlessly summoned a new broom. As he held it out, he explained the next task. "For the rest of the night, you are going to practice flying with a passenger."

"With you?" she gulped.

"Yes," he replied, noting her nervous expression. "You needn't fret, Granger. I am fully capable of catching us both if you lose control."

The girl gave him a weak smile as she accepted the object. Trying to push all thoughts of their previous flights together out of her head, she took in a steadying breath. "Well, obviously you can't sit in front of me because I wouldn't be able to see around you. So you'll have to sit behind me."

"An astute observation," the man commented while watching her mount the broom. When she looked to him pointedly, he resisted the urge to give her instruction and simply climbed on behind her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she instantly felt how much more unsteady the broom was. Attempting to think positively, she pushed off only to have the broom immediately fall back to the ground.

"Not as easy as it looks," the professor quipped as he prevented them from tipping over.

"Nothing about flying has ever looked easy to me," she sighed sadly.

Squeezing her shoulder, Severus spoke quietly. "You're doing remarkably well. You just need to find the balance."

"Find the balance," the girl repeated under her breath. Pinching her lips together, she moved backwards until she could feel the heat from his body radiating against her spine. Swallowing slowly, she was hesitant to press back against him, but she could tell that the broom had evened out somewhat. "Erm… can I ask you to slide back a bit?"

With a nod, he did as she requested.

"Nope!" she exclaimed as the broom shook beneath them. "Back to where you were."

Sensing the smirk on his face as he returned to his original spot, the witch inhaled slowly. In her mind, she pictured how Snape had tested his broom prior to their flight to the cottage. "Is it better to spread the weight out, or to make it as compact a weight as possible?"

"Which do you think?"

Hermione shook her head in frustration. "Logically, I would say to spread out the weight, but when has anything been logical lately?"

"Well," he sighed. "You must keep in mind that I do weigh at least three stone more than you."

"True. Okay, so… it probably would be better to make it one weight that could be spread out if necessary." Closing her eyes for a moment, she slid back on the broom until her backside was pressed firmly against his chest. Though the broom had evened out, the girl found herself becoming slightly disconcerted. Her body was already on high alert due to the significant amount of adrenaline coursing through her system, and she was well aware that it had been nearly two weeks since Valentine's Day.

As he again placed his hands on her shoulders, the girl forced herself to focus on the task at hand. As they slowly ascended from the ground, she initially struggled to keep the broomstick steady but gradually overcame it. As she commanded the vehicle about the room a number of times, she realized that flying with a passenger required wider turns and slower maneuvers.

And with every passing moment, Hermione became increasingly aware of the intimacy of their positioning. Though she was grateful that his hands had remained cemented on her shoulders, a treacherous voice at the back of her head lamented that they were not at her hips, or wrapped around her waist… or even cupping her breasts.

"Mmph." The witch stifled a moan as her momentary inattention resulted in a slight dip of the broom, which caused their bodies to jar together. _Damn it, Granger! Pay attention! Stop thinking about him… doing amazing things to you. No, stop it!_

Her hands were becoming stiff as she continuously tightened her grip on the broom. Her eyes gradually began fluttering shut as she absently concentrated on the feeling of his hot breath on the back of her neck. Unconsciously, she leaned farther into his chest and silently willed him to replace his breath with his lips.

"Granger!" Snape hissed as the broom made another jump, slamming him into her shoulders.

"Oh gods," she groaned, throwing open her eyes and refocusing on the flight. Tears of frustration were beginning to form, however, as she realized that every slight fluctuation of the broom or movement of his sent a stab of pleasure straight to her core. She bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to fight the urges, but when she tasted a hint of copper, she let out a soft cry. "I can't! I can't do this!"

His eyebrows narrowed in confusion at her sudden panic. "Granger, you're doing fine."

The girl shook her head as his voice rumbled against her spine. "No… no… I have to stop! I have to –"

"Hermione, you need to calm down and –"

"Down!" she hissed, attempting to draw away from him. "I need down."

"Granger!" the man shouted as the broom suddenly began dropping at a fair rate of speed. With a grunt, he quickly wrapped his arms around her waist to grab hold of the handle. Closing his eyes, he managed to slow their descent until they came to a nearly gentle landing.

With a startled gasp, Hermione attempted to leap off of the broom. His arm was still across her side, however, and she only succeeded in knocking them both to the ground. As her cheeks flushed in embarrassment, she rolled onto her stomach and covered her head with her hands.

Pushing her foot away from where it had collided with his kneecap, Severus grumbled under his breath and pulled himself into a seated position. He frowned as he took in her defensive position, and his eyes widened with concern after he touched her shoulder and realized that she was quivering. Sucking in a deep breath, he scooted closer to her side and attempted to turn her onto her side. "Hermione?"

"I didn't mean to," she mumbled.

He snorted softly and shook his head. "I've taken far worse tumbles than that, I assure you."

"No."

"No?" the wizard mouthed before pulling her against his chest and attempting to expose her face. "Hermione, please look at me. Te—_Please_ tell me why you are so afraid."

Hermione pinched her eyes shut and buried her face into his robes. His scent was comforting and yet completely unsettling at the same time, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep herself from grinding against his thigh. If she looked into his eyes as he was asking her to do, she highly doubted she would refrain from bowling him over and straddling his waist.

Growing more unnerved by her silence as she clutched onto his clothing, the man leaned back just enough to slip his fingers beneath her jaw. He heard her whimper as he raised her chin, and he began another attempt to discern what was wrong. Before he could get out anything but the first two syllables of her name, however, he suddenly found his mouth assaulted by her abused lips.

"Nnnguh," he gasped ineloquently when she tore her mouth away from him just as quickly. With wide eyes, he took in her flushed cheeks, dilated pupils, and the feel of her hardened nipples through the fabric of his sleeve. "Hermione?"

The witch tried to duck her head, but was prevented from doing so. "I'm sorry. I tried to focus on –"

"_That's_ what was wrong?" Severus exclaimed, brushing hair out of her face.

Feeling thoroughly mortified, she nodded.

"Merlin," he sighed. "I thought you were having a bloody anxiety attack."

"I was… just about that," the girl muttered before pinching her lips together to keep from forcing another kiss on him. The longer he held her, however, the harder it became to remain calm. What was really only seconds seemed to stretch on for hours until finally she could not bear the heat any longer. With a small squeak, her hands flew to the clasp of her school robes. Once she had the article of clothing unfastened, she slipped her arms out of the sleeves and then wrapped them about his neck. "Severus, I'm –"

"It's alright," the wizard assured after he had silenced her by pressing his thumb against her lips. Sucking in a small breath, he leaned down to replace his finger with his mouth.

Instantly, Hermione opened her mouth to him and let out a throaty groan. Placing one hand on the ground behind her, she raised herself up enough to wrap her legs about his waist. As she returned her arm to rest along the back of his neck and shoulders, she gave his lips several desperate pecks. "I didn't want… to interrupt… the lesson. I know you… don't like… to be interrupted."

An amused snort left him as he gently cupped the back of her head and shifted forward to lay her back against the cushioned floor. Kneeling over her, he briefly pressed his lips to hers and then shook his head. "This is one type of interruption that I find I don't mind all that much."

The girl giggled softly as she stared up at his face. Withdrawing her hands from behind his head, she placed them at his collar and worked to unfasten his robes. Before long, he captured her hands and leaned against her to kiss his way down the length of her throat. Writhing beneath him, she flexed her hands and groaned in frustration. "Severus… touch me. _Please_."

Snape inhaled sharply as her request caused an unmistakable throb in his cock. Rearing back onto his haunches, he slipped his fingers under the hem of her shirt and then pulled it over her head. Tossing it aside, he repeated the process with her jeans. While the visible wetness of her knickers gave him momentary pause, the witch wiggled about until she managed to remove her bra and then lifted her hips as he took off her underwear. After quickly stripping down to his trousers, the wizard returned to his earlier position.

Hermione raised her head to kiss him and then sank back against the ground as his lips migrated to her breast. Her eyes gradually closed and her mouth fell open while his fingers rubbed slow circles over the sensitive nub above her sex. Unconsciously, she began to thrust against him and cry out in pleasure. It did not take much time after he repeatedly pushed two fingers into her channel for her to come to a loud completion.

As she slowly came down from her high, the Slytherin watched her with unconcealed interest. While he was relatively certain that he would not have spared her a second glance had the Dark Lord not forced them together, he could not deny that she was a beautiful witch especially when falling to pieces in the throes of passion. He had never considered any student attractive during his tenure as a Hogwarts professor, yet she managed to arouse him more than any woman had ever done.

Frankly, he was relieved to know that he was not the only one struggling to keep his libido in check while in flight. They had not been in the air more than thirty seconds before he was cursing his own stupidity. Having her warm body pressed against his as they soared through the air certainly did little to dissuade his mind from supplying images of what had occurred following their last tandem flight. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep his hands planted upon her shoulders and his focus solely on her flying technique.

"Mmm… Severus," the girl murmured, shifting slightly as she ran a hand along his arm. "I need you."

A smile spread across his face as the man magically divested himself of the remainder of his clothing. Nudging her thighs farther apart, he crawled forward until he was in position. While he rubbed the head of his hardened member against her opening, he returned his lips to hers. A moment later he swallowed her cry as he plunged into her wet heat. He paused for a moment while she wrapped her legs about him, and then began slowly thrusting.

"S-s-sev," she whined a few minutes later. "Faster."

Smirking, the wizard flattened himself against her body before increasing the pace with which he pushed into her. As the arms she threw about his neck clutched him as tightly as her thighs were, he grunted and turned his face into the side of her throat. Shortly after he began suckling at her pulse point, she shouted out in ecstasy.

As her second orgasm tore through her, Hermione felt her arms give out and fall uselessly to her sides. Unintelligible syllables spilled forth from her as his hips continued to piston against her pelvis. Though she could not manage to keep her eyes open, she could hear his breathing growing louder and more erratic with every thrust. The delicious burn again developed in her core and by the time grunts were beginning to punctuate his breaths, her fingers were fruitlessly attempting to seek purchase in the cushioned floor.

Recognizing that he had to be as close as she was, the witch matched his rhythm as she pressed back against him. In what seemed like no time at all, pinpricks of white light danced upon the back of her eyelids as she reached her final climax.

"Nnngods!" Severus gasped as her convulsing walls pulled him over the edge. Panting heavily, he managed a few more shallow thrusts while his seed exploded into her. When he had finally finished, he withdrew and then collapsed on his back beside her.

Minutes passed as they struggled to breathe. Eventually, the brunette swallowed loudly and turned her head towards him. "How can you do that?"

His eyebrows narrowed as he glanced at her in confusion. "Do what?"

"This," Hermione stated, rolling onto her side and lazily touching her hand to his chest. "I swear… it gets better every time. I don't understand how that's possible."

The Slytherin Head chuckled breathlessly and placed one hand atop hers. "I think that might be something neither of us truly understands."

Giggling, she shifted closer into his side. "If you need to summon Dobby, can you at least cover us first?"

Snape gave a frustrated huff as he realized that once again he had forgotten to fetch contraceptive before engaging in sexual relations. Catching hold of the corner of his teaching robes, he yanked them over the top of their naked bodies and then sent the house elf to fetch the potion.

After consuming the sickly sweet brew, the witch rested her head on his shoulder. Yawning, she pulled his robes up to her chin and closed her eyes. As she was starting to drift into sleep, her mind dredged up images from the nightmare she had had that morning.

_"… or notice you sneaking off to let Snape fuck you. I never would have pegged you for a Death Eater's whore!"_

When the wizard moved his left arm slightly, her eyes were automatically drawn to the Dark Mark on his forearm. She shivered slightly at the sight of it, but instantly felt more secure when he tightened his hold on her.

_I'm not a whore_. Hermione sucked in a deep breath as she mentally chased away the dream-Harry's accusation. As hard as she tried not to think about the nightmare any longer, she kept replaying the sight of Harry searching her room for Crookshanks. Frowning, she thought back to Ron's account the day before and then realized her curiosity was not going to allow her to rest. Clearing her throat, she blinked a few times. "Severus?"

"Hmmm?" he grunted softly without opening his eyes.

"Does the word 'Orcrooks' mean anything to you?"

"Orcrooks?" the wizard repeated, narrowing his brow. After a few seconds of tense silence, he asked, "May I know the context?"

Hermione let out a soft sigh and pulled herself into a seated position. Picking up her discarded bra, she began shrugging into it before responding. "Well, it's a bit of a story really. You see, Harry talks in his sleep sometimes."

She paused momentarily when he snorted and then pulled her shirt over her head. "Anyway, Ron found me in the library yesterday – you were right about him, by the way – and he told me that he tried to talk to Harry while he was sleeping. Harry said something about needing to find something, and when Ron asked what it was he was looking for, Harry mumbled something that sounded like 'Orcrooks'."

As the man mulled over the information, the girl slipped on her knickers and then reached for her jeans. "I mean, it could have just been an innocent dream… or some nonsense word…or… Ron suggested he could have been dreaming about Crookshanks. It's probably nothing, but I just thought I would ask you if it could –"

"Fuck," Severus hissed, launching to his feet and snatching up his trousers from the floor. "Fuck, fucking, fuck!"

The witch watched with wide eyes as he hurriedly pulled on his trousers without bothering to first put on his underwear. "I take it he wasn't looking for my cat?"

"He's not looking for a fucking cat," he snapped as he threw on his long-sleeved shirt. "He's looking for a horcrux. That's what Dumbledore has him doing, the fuckhead."

"But what… a _horcrux_?"

The man paused in the midst of buttoning his shirt and blew out a slow breath. "It's very Dark magic… the _darkest_ of Dark magic. Basically it's an object in which a wizard has hidden a piece of his soul –"

"What?" she gasped.

"—and it is believed to make the wizard immortal for all intents and purposes," he continued. "Even if the body is destroyed, the soul is still tied to the Earth preventing the wizard from truly dying. I assume that that is how Dumbledore believes that the Dark Lord managed to return, and that he believes it's still out there."

"Still out there?" the witch repeated slowly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"That's the only reason they'd be looking for it," he shrugged, forgoing his frock coat as he pulled his slightly rumpled teaching robes on over his shoulders and stepped into his boots. "I need to talk to the Headmaster."

"But…" She had intended to remind him to avoid Remus since he had not showered, but something else seemed more pressing. Closing her eyes, she quickly ran through the conversation with Ron. A second later, her eyes popped open and snapped to the Slytherin's form. "Severus, wait!"

With one hand on the door knob, he faced her. "What?"

"He said them." Hermione scrambled to her feet and folded her arms over her stomach. "Harry said he had to find _them_."

"Them?" the man stated; his face becoming visibly ashen. "There's more than one? Oh, of _course_ there fucking is."

"Severus," she called when he turned away again. "You didn't shower."

He took in a deep breath and nodded. "It will be alright. I don't have to walk any farther than you do. There's an unused office from where I can floo directly into the Headmaster's Office."

The witch nibbled on her lower lip as he disappeared into the corridor. After she finished re-dressing, she glanced at his remaining clothing and let out a sigh. "Dobby?"

With a pop, the elf appeared before her. "What can Dobby do for Hermione Granger?"

"Can you take Professor Snape's things back to his quarters?"

"Of course Dobby can!" he cried. With a clap of his hands, the man's frock coat, boxers, and pair of socks launched up from the floor and into the creature's arms. After flashing the girl a grin, Dobby disappeared again.

Hermione exhaled slowly as she pondered what to do. She had an urge to rush down to his quarters to wait for his return, but she did not know if that was wise. It would be just her luck to run into Remus while still smelling of sex.

_Alright… Shower first; then think about sneaking out._

**XxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, Severus!" Dumbledore called out as the man stepped out of his fireplace. "Minerva and I were just finishing our discussion."

The Deputy Headmistress pinched her mouth into a frown and leaned forward in her chair. She muttered something unintelligible beneath her breath as she began collecting a number of folders from his desk.

"Have a pleasant rest of your evening, Minerva," the elder smiled.

"A pleasant rest of my evening doing your job," she grumbled quietly after turning away from her employer. Pausing briefly on the way to the door, she eyed Snape's disheveled appearance with a bemused smirk. "And just what happened to you?"

When the dark-haired wizard simply glared at her, she tittered softly and shook her head. "Oh my _my_."

Rolling his eyes, the Slytherin crossed his arms and remained silent until she had reached the exit. Once the door had latched shut behind her, he fixed the Headmaster with a dangerous glare.

"I take it that you are not here to discuss the upcoming staff meeting," Dumbledore sighed, leaning back in his chair. "What is it that –"

"Horcruxes, Albus?" Severus all but shouted as he quickly approached the desk.

The glint in the Headmaster's eye cooled as his expression became rigid. "Pardon?"

"You heard me," the younger wizard snarled, slamming his finger into the desk. "Don't you dare deny it!"

Dumbledore shifted in his chair and cleared his throat. "Really, Severus… and where might you have gotten this idea?"

"Where did I get it?" he hissed. "Did you honestly think that hiding things from Potter's friends would dissuade them from asking? Did you think that Potter would be any better at keeping his mind closed while sleeping than he was last year?"

The old man pinched his lips together in anger but said nothing.

"Besides you and the Boy Wonder, does anyone in the Order know that the Dark Lord has taken up soul-splitting as a hobby?" the spy questioned. After another moment of silence, he shook his head in frustration. "I'll take that as a no. Unbelievable! You are actually sitting there, ready to risk your life in two days' time on the chance that the venom won't be lethal, yet think nothing of the fact that you could be taking critical information to your grave!"

"In that event, Harry would –"

"He would _what_? Announce it to the Order?" Snape scoffed. "Fat chance. You know as well as I do that the boy would hang on to your explicit demands for secrecy!"

"He would –"

"You would leave it to that immature twit to seek out and destroy every piece of the Dark Lord's soul on his own?" the man continued shouting. "Jesus Christ! Has the curse addled your brain that much, or are you just fucking senile?"

Albus swallowed back a surprised utterance while the younger man's eyes widened in sudden revelation.

"My gods," he stated softly. "The curse… the ring… it was a bloody horcrux, wasn't it?"

The Headmaster hesitated before giving a nod.

"Did you know it was one before you tried it on?" Severus hissed, knowing the answer. When no response came, he shook his head. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I have already admitted that I acted a fool," the elder replied.

Recognizing that shouting was not going to relieve him of any further anger, the Potions Master let out a deep sigh and wiped a hand over his face. "Did you at least manage to destroy the damn thing?"

"Of course," Dumbledore said in a clipped tone.

"And just how did you manage that particular feat?"

The bearded wizard cracked a small smile as he gestured to where the sword of Godric Gryffindor was prominently displayed. "It took surprisingly little effort."

"You hit it with a sword?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. "An object of the darkest origins, and all it takes to destroy it is one whack of a sword?"

"That would be rather anticlimactic, wouldn't it?" Albus quipped before leaning forward. "I do not believe that an ordinary sword would be successful. The sword of Gryffindor, however, is rather extraordinary."

"That's what you were doing with Potter then?" the spy questioned harshly. "You took him along on your little horcrux scavenger hunt?"

The Headmaster frowned as he responded. "It is not your place to disapprove, Severus. I did not intend for you to –"

"Oh, no… I fully realize you did not wish for me to know this," he interrupted. "Why trust sensitive information to someone who is entirely capable of protecting it from the Dark Lord?"

"Severus." Dumbledore exhaled slowly and then shook his head. "You have acquired far too much to protect. I did not wish to overburden you."

_Oh, I'm sure_. The Slytherin Head took in a steadying breath and placed one hand atop an armchair. "How many of them are out there?"

"I cannot be certain," the old man stated. After a moment's consideration, he cleared his throat. "I have reason to suspect that Riddle desired to create six of them."

"Six?" Snape gasped, gripping the back of the chair. "But that… he _split_ his soul into _seven_ pieces? How is that… how is that even possible?"

"I believe he felt that it would bring him further magical strength," Albus shrugged. "I do not imagine it has, however."

The younger wizard covered his mouth briefly before narrowing his eyes. "What _reason_ do you have to suspect this?"

"A memory I extracted from your predecessor in which Riddle approached him with a question regarding the possibility of creating multiple horcruxes. It took a bit of finessing on my part to obtain an unaltered version, but he finally did relinquish it in exchange for my not revealing a bit of particularly sensitive information."

"Slughorn?" his subordinate murmured before folding his arms to his chest. "By sensitive information, I assume you're referring to his occasionally accepting sexual favors in exchange for favorable marks or recommendations."

"I do forget how perceptive you are at times."

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes. "Perceptiveness is not required when Bellatrix Lestrange drunkenly boasts of her exploits… in nauseating detail. How long have you known?"

"About Horace's extracurriculars?"

"I would say that your blatant inability to effectively administrate a school and supervise the staff is a conversation to be had another day," he sneered. "Wouldn't you?"

Dumbledore let out a quick sigh before straightening in his chair. "I had suspected that Riddle may have created a horcrux since his first rise to power. Had I known that Horace was hiding relevant information at the time, I would have addressed it far sooner. It was not until the summer before last that I considered he may know something. You see, Horace all but vanished after the Tri-Wizard Cup. I knew then that he thought himself in danger, and it took me the better part of a year to locate him. He did, of course, inquire as to how you were faring."

"How touching." The Slytherin took in a deep breath. "I would find myself more moved by the interest in my well-being had the self-absorbed twat actually come forward with the information which could have been used to prevent the Dark Lord's fucking return."

The Headmaster nodded silently as he watched his spy sink into the chair.

Snape fixed his gaze onto one of the bookshelves. "So, you've destroyed one, leaving five more to find?"

"I do believe two have been destroyed."

"Two?"

Albus gave another nod. "The diary that Lucius slipped to Miss Weasley four years ago."

"Fucking hell," he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Well, at least we know then that the Dark Lord is not aware of their destruction."

"I do not believe he is, no."

Severus shook his head and straightened his spine. "I assure you he isn't. If he were, Lucius and his family would not be presently breathing. The Dark Lord would not take too kindly to the knowledge that Lucius had allowed the destruction of his horcrux, regardless of whether or not there were five others in existence."

"That was my thought as well," Dumbledore agreed.

"Have you identified any of the –"

"Harry and I have been working to do just that," the elder interrupted. "At the present time, I would appreciate if you would step back from this avenue. You are needed to collect as broad an array of intelligence as possible, and I do not want you to become blinded to anything. Furthermore, asking pointed questions is far too dangerous. It would not do to raise further suspicion on your part."

_As if I am more likely to jeopardize the information than Potter_. Bristling, the spy squared his shoulders and stiffly rose from his seat. "I see."

Before the man could reach the fireplace, Albus called out. "About the staff meeting…"

Taking in a deep breath, Snape turned back to face him. "Everything shall proceed as planned. Your tea shall be extra special this week."

"Splendid," the old wizard smiled. "Oh, and Severus… I do value your contributions. I trust you know that."

After giving a blank stare for a handful of seconds, the younger man simply dipped his head once and reached for the floo powder.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh…" Hermione froze midway through the doorway when the pair of dark eyes suddenly locked onto her. As her face flushed slightly, she slipped fully into the sitting room and pushed the door shut. "Erm, hi. I didn't expect you to be back quite so soon."

"_That_ is blatantly apparent," Severus sneered, raising a tumbler to his lips.

With a soft snort, the witch crept forward, depositing the large ginger-furred cat she had carried onto a chair. Folding her arms to her chest, she sank onto the center of the sofa. She bit down on her bottom lip with uncertainty as she watched him toss back his drink and then refill his glass from a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. "You're drinking. Is that… I mean, it must be bad if you're drinking… but, well, you haven't destroyed anything, so –"

"Are you quite done with your analysis?" he asked.

"I've just never seen you drink before," she murmured quietly.

Snape raised one eyebrow as he moved away from the mantelpiece and claimed a seat beside her. "It is not a terribly rare occurrence, I assure you."

"Oh."

He flicked his gaze briefly to hers and then cleared his throat. "Nor is it a terribly frequent occurrence."

"I did not assume it was," Hermione replied. "I think if it were, I would have seen it before now."

"Yes, well… you weren't meant to see it this time, either," he sighed, leaning his head against the backrest. "Yet here you are again with your furry sidekick… breaking and entering."

A brief smile toyed at her lips as she moved a few inches closer to him. "If you wanted me to leave, you would have told me to… but you haven't."

"Glutton for punishment," Severus muttered under his breath before taking a small sip of firewhiskey. "At least you have the decency not to lick your arse on my favorite chair."

The girl giggled after following the wizard's gaze to where Crookshanks had paused mid-washing with his hind leg in the air. The cat gave them both a smug blink before returning to his task.

"At least it isn't your pillow?" she suggested.

"_This_ time," he grumbled.

A moment passed in silence until the witch gathered the courage to ask him about his discussion with Dumbledore. A disgusted grimace settled onto his face as he considered his response. "He admitted to there being horcruxes. Apparently, that's what he and Potter have been up to this past year – trying to identify the objects that the Dark Lord would have considered worthy enough to house his soul. They believe two have been destroyed – the ring that the Headmaster stupidly put on and accidentally killed himself with and the diary that nearly killed your friend, Miss Weasley."

Hermione's eyes widened at the information. "If two are destroyed already, how many more need to be found?"

"Albus believes there are four still to be discovered."

"Four?" she gasped. After a few seconds, she sank against his shoulder. "I can see why you're drinking."

The man snorted sadly and peered down at his glass. "If you think that will earn you your own drink, think again."

"Oh ha ha," the witch sneered.

Severus paused momentarily before explaining further. "If he is correct, it would suggest that the Dark Lord split his soul into seven pieces in the hopes of attaining some increase in magical power."

"Did he attain it?"

He shook his head in frustration. "Just because the number seven is the magical number of the natural world does not mean that it will grant unnatural magical prowess. The soul is not meant to be split at all, let alone into seven pieces. Destroying one's soul does not make one more powerful; it only makes one more unstable."

"Are you certain?"

"Did I sound uncertain?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "If you were to break your arm into seven pieces, Granger, do you think it would suddenly become stronger as a whole? Or indestructible, for that matter?"

"Of course not," the girl replied. "But an arm and a soul are different."

The wizard sighed deeply and straightened in his seat. "Yes, but they are still a part of you. You cannot just tear a piece of yourself away and think the rest of you will remain unaffected. The more you tear away, the weaker you become, and the more likely you will fall apart."

A frown was evident on her face as she took in his words. "But… you said that a horcrux would make him immortal, and six would –"

"Yes, because a horcrux creates a tie between the soul and the living realm. However, the soul and the body are not the same. The body is just… Merlin, I don't know enough about this to explain it." With a huff, he took a quick sip of firewhiskey and then shook his head. "I'm sure there's a book in the library that you could ingest."

"A book on horcruxes?"

"No. At least there had better not be. A book dark enough to contain information about horcruxes has no business being in a school library… not even in the Restricted Section." A scowl set onto his countenance as he considered that there could have perhaps been such a book there at one time, since it was the former Head of Slytherin House who had been aware of the Dark Lord's interest in soul-splitting. He did not doubt that Slughorn had kept communication with the young Tom Riddle after he left Hogwarts, but to respond to question about such a dark matter did not seem likely. A current student, however, coming to him with an academic curiosity was not out of the realm of possibilities. If that were the case, it was most likely that the Dark Lord had come across the mention of horcruxes in a library book, which meant that his ability to resurrect himself came about as a direct result of his Hogwarts education. _If someone had just bloody paid attention_…

"Severus?"

At the hesitant tone in her voice, he returned his attention to the young witch sitting beside him. Clearing his throat, he mumbled, "I meant a book on the soul. I am certain there must be something about it if you're truly curious. I do not know much more than what I have researched in conjunction with Dark magic and the Unforgivables."

"The Unforgivables?"

"Have you ever considered why they are so unforgivable when there are other dark spells that can produce similar effects? The Killing Curse is not the only curse that kills. The _Cruciatus_ is not the only curse that tortures. The _Imperius_ is not the only curse that takes away free will."

Hermione stared at him oddly and shook her head. "No, I've never considered it."

"The Unforgivables are the most unforgivable because of the way in which they taint the soul of the caster. They are entirely unnatural. There are other dark curses that would accomplish the same means, yes, because the natural world includes darkness, suffering, and death… but always in balance, and always with chance. The Unforgivables shift the power balance entirely. The caster absorbs all control in the situation. To cause pain or death is one thing, but to control it another. With the _Imperius_, the caster controls another wizard's body – disconnecting their thoughts and actions. With the _Cruciatus_, the caster controls another's pain. With the _Avada_, the caster controls another's death. There is no chance involved, and nature thrives on chance occurrences. Similarly, a horcrux removes the chance of death… and to create one, the creator must remove another's chance of life."

"You mean murder."

Snape nodded once.

"With the Killing Curse?"

"Generally," he shrugged. "I would assume it possible through other means. As with everything magical, it is the intent which truly matters."

"My god," the young woman murmured, wiping her face. "What did you mean about the Dark Lord becoming weaker?"

"It's only a personal theory, of course," he explained, "but I believe that as he eats away at whatever remains of his soul, he weakens his physical being. He does not now have the power he once had."

"You mean he was worse?" she exclaimed.

"In a manner, yes. He did not used to delegate punishments or torture nearly as often as he does now."

She pinched her lips together and then let out a stiff sigh. "So the more horcruxes that are destroyed, the easier it will be to defeat him… but if he is physically removed before all of the horcruxes are, he can continue to return."

"Precisely."

"And we think there are four more to dispatch of… but really, we don't actually know if there are four left, or if there are actually more, and we don't where to find them, or what they actually are."

"Furthermore, you and I are technically not allowed to seek any information out regarding them for the Headmaster fears it would run the risk of tipping off the Dark Lord. As of now, he is unaware that any have been destroyed." When she glanced at him in uncertainty, the man let out a slow breath. "We would not presently be concerning ourselves with Draco and Narcissa Malfoy if the Dark Lord were aware of Lucius's carelessness with the diary."

"Oh," Hermione replied, turning to stare at the fireplace. After a long moment, she reached her hand toward his and plucked the tumbler from his grasp. Before he could utter a word of protest, she tossed the rest of it back. She coughed slightly at the burn in her throat and then raised her eyes to meet his glare.

"Granger."

She quirked a small smirk as she replaced the empty glass in his hand. "I guess you'll just have to learn how to better hold your liquor then."

Snape raised one eyebrow in response.

"Oh, come on," the witch teased. "Of all the _forbidden_ things I've done this year, a stolen swig of booze is where you draw the line?"

Snorting under his breath, the Slytherin rolled his eyes. "Just don't tell Poppy."

"Okay?"

"Otherwise, I'll have no leg to stand on if she takes another shot at me regarding violations of Hogwarts policies."

A soft giggle escaped the girl as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Our secret, then."

"An ever-growing list," he mumbled before setting his empty tumbler on the end table. He then shifted in order to slip an arm about her midsection, which inspired her to nestle more securely into his chest.

"We aren't just going to ignore the horcrux issue, right?"

"No. It cannot be our primary focus at present, but it would not benefit us to not keep it in mind."

Hermione nodded against his shoulder and then gently draped one arm across his chest. "It just seems so hopeless sometimes…"

Instinctively, the wizard wrapped his other arm around her as well and pulled her closer to him.

"…but I know we still have a chance."

"Indeed," Severus agreed, pressing his nose into her freshly-washed curls. Inhaling the pleasant vanilla scent of her shampoo, he whispered, "It may appear small, but it's there."


	65. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**A/N: Wow. I did not mean to leave you all for such an extensive time. I appreciated all of the daily notes of encouragement that you sent and greatly wish that there were far more hours in the day. This summer has just flown by, and I haven't had a chance to catch my breath. Thank you to everyone who expressed concern and well wishes for my grampa. He is doing well now and is living with his wife in their new apartment. It just so happened that as soon as one grampa got out of the hospital, the other one went in. Though he is home, too, now, any spare weekends that I would have used for writing were spent driving home and helping around his house. I don't really get a chance to work on my stories until after everyone else has gone to bed, so that is why it has taken so long. Even now, it's 3 AM as I finish typing this up. **

**Thank you all for loving this so much. It may have been 3 months since last I posted, but I shall not abandon this. I haven't had many chances to check out the story stats lately, so I was absolutely blown away this afternoon when I noticed that this story has received more than a million views! You all are lovely. Please keep reading.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 65**

"Good morning, everyone!" Dumbledore declared loudly. After receiving a chorus of muffled, half-hearted greetings in return, he turned to smile at his Deputy. "Minerva, the tea?"

With a stiff nod, the witch stepped away from the table and headed over to the fireplace to place the order with the kitchens. By the time she had reclaimed her seat, the service popped into place just in front of her. When no one made motions to serve it, she sighed and reached for the silver tea pot.

"Thank you, Minerva," the Headmaster stated as she sent a cup floating his way. "However, I think a bit of sugar is in order. Severus, would you mind terribly?"

Rolling his eyes, Snape sat forward and reached across the table for the small sugar canister. He quickly deposited a small scoop into the waiting teacup and attempted to send it back.

"Another scoop perhaps."

McGonagall snorted disdainfully at the request while she sent two teacups down the length of the table. "Too much of that _will_ kill you, you know."

His eyes twinkled as he watched another spoonful being dumped into his tea. "Oh, I am fully aware of that, Minerva… but what is life without a bit of danger? Oh, and give it a bit of a stir if you would."

"Here, Severus," the woman mumbled, handing him a spoon along with his own cup of tea.

The Slytherin gave an acknowledging grunt as he accepted it. As he set down his tea, he subtly tucked the spoon into his cuff and withdrew an identical one from within a small pocket within his sleeve. Dropping it into the Headmaster's tea, he sent it back to him with a grumble. "You're quite capable of stirring things up yourself, Albus."

A quiet round of snickers erupted from the staff as the elderly wizard again grabbed hold of his teacup. "Oh, most assuredly, but every now and then I think it only polite to allow others the thrill of it."

"Oh, I assure you, Albus," he sneered, leaning back in his chair, "you have granted me far too many thrills as it is."

Minerva cracked a large smile as she sent the last cup to Remus, who had just dropped into the empty seat beside Severus.

"My apologies, everyone," the Defense Instructor murmured. "I was waylaid by a pair of quarreling students. Filius, I've informed Miss Baumett and Mr. Moorhouse that I would discuss their detentions with you."

The diminutive wizard let out a soft sigh and shook his head. "Ended things again, have they?"

"It appears so."

"That must be the third time this year," Pomona exclaimed.

"Oh, the fourth at least," Septima added. "They just broke up last month in a wildly dramatic fashion outside of my office."

"Well, they certainly were quite _together_ on Valentine's Day," McGonagall chuckled. "There was no mistaking that."

"If we're simply here to discuss the relationship status of our students," Snape sighed, "there are more pressing matters that require my attention."

"Yes, of course," Dumbledore chuckled, setting down his teacup. "Onto business then, I suppose. The Ministry will be sending their annual checklists for…"

Severus stopped paying full attention soon after they had settled into the standard humdrum of the meeting. His eyes were automatically drawn to the Headmaster whenever the man took a sip of his tea. Though he was rather confident that he had diluted the poison to a non-lethal toxicity, there still remained a niggling doubt at the back of his mind. He thus far had been unable to identify the exact curse that had been cast upon the ring, and therefore could not accurately determine the effect it could have had on the man's immune system. He knew it was incredibly unlikely that the wizard would suddenly keel over within the next day or two – even if it _had_ been a lethal dose – yet his stomach was twisting itself into far more knots than he had initially considered it would.

Every decision he had ever made in his life had come with risk attached. Even as a young child, he had fully understood that his actions had both cost and consequences. But this risk went beyond the threat of a beating from his father, or a hex in the back from a Marauder or two, or even a bout of _Cruciatus_ from the Dark Lord. If he made one wrong step here, he could seriously cripple the Order and all but hand victory to the Dark Lord.

If there was anything he knew, though, it was that it never hurt to prepare for the worst. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he shifted his attention to the witch sitting across the table from him. He had been working with her on Occlumency for six weeks now, and for half that time she had been making relatively steady progress in tossing him out of her head. Since she was competent in that aspect, the next task would be to improve her ability to detect nonverbal entrances into her mind.

_No time like the present._ While the witch took a small sip of tea, Snape wordlessly attempted to penetrate her mind. Finding virtually no resistance to his intrusion, he felt mildly disappointed, though not at all surprised. All of the previous work with her had been blatantly apparent, and it would undoubtedly take time and practice for her to recognize the subtle signs of Legilimency. As such, he decided to passively remain in her head, tapping into surface memories until either she discovered him or he grew tired of it.

As Dumbledore continued discussing the preparations for the upcoming OWLs and NEWTs, several decades' worth of memories were dredged up to the surface of her mindscape. Without exerting much effort, the spy reached for one floating nearby and flicked it open. Immediately, he was pulled into the Great Hall in the midst of an examination. When a cursory scan of the room did not reveal the witch as the school representative assisting the Ministry officials in proctoring, he frowned and looked to the front of the room to see that it was the written portion of the Transfiguration OWL in progress.

Knowing that Minerva could not be anywhere near an examination covering material that she had taught, the wizard turned his attention instead to the field of students with their heads bent over their desks. As a sense of confidence and superiority began to sink in, he strode toward a young witch with dark hair spilling out of the bun at the nape of her neck. While watching her furiously scratch away at her parchment, he could not help but be reminded of another know-it-all Gryffindor witch.

Fractured pieces of Transfiguration theory and principles assaulted him until the proctors announced that time had been reached, and the quills disappeared out of the students' hands. The young McGonagall instantly sat tall in her seat and gave a small smile of satisfaction. Severus rolled his eyes at the expression on her face for he recognized that he had never felt so confident after any examination – his own area of expertise included. When he picked up on a strong sense of relief in her recollection, however, he pressed deeper upon the feeling and discovered with glee that while she was celebrating her performance on Transfiguration, she was dreading receiving her Potions score.

As he nudged upon the related thought, the scene before him shifted to the written examination in question. Unlike the previous environment, he was inundated by panic and frustration. He could see now why the prim witch had appeared so disheveled as she was all but pulling her hair out as she scowled at her parchment. Curious as to what could be upsetting the girl so much, he peered over her shoulder to read the prompt.

**_List Murgatroyd's Basic Principles and summarize, using real examples whenever possible, why they are of the utmost importance to potion-brewing._**

Severus snorted under his breath at her continuing struggle. _Murgatroyd gave you difficulty? They're _basic_ principles for a reason, Minerva. Color, consistency, concentration, configuration, composition, character, and time – seven basic principles that can be used to classify a brew, evaluate relative complexity, and suggest substitutions when necessary._

_'Pish,' _the young witch whispered to herself_. 'I _know_ there are seven! Why can't I remember the last two?'_

When the proctor announced there was less than a minute remaining, she audibly squealed and balled up her free hand into a fist. The intruding wizard leaned closer to watch her quickly pen 'taste' and 'odor' before her quill disappeared.

_'Shite.'_

The Potions Master snickered as he slipped out of the memory, earning himself a questioning glance from the witch herself. After a brief moment, she returned her attention to the Headmaster. The Slytherin waited several minutes before attempting to enter her head for the second time. Though he could still feel traces of suspicion trickling through her mind, her defenses had not yet been triggered.

"Excuse me, Headmaster –"

Snape grit his teeth as Vector leaned forward to address the group. He was somewhat mollified, however, when he recognized that McGonagall's thoughts had developed nearly as much of an edge as his own.

"—but I was wondering… since the violence has necessitated our cancelling the remaining Hogsmeade weekends, shall we be providing the students with alternative activities?"

_'Oh, for the love of Merlin!'_

"Is preventing their premature demise not suitable enough of an alternative for you?" the spy drawled with a roll of his eyes.

"We're hardly going out of our way to do so," Septima shrugged with a smile, "and I'm certain that even you, Severus, must understand that people tend to be disappointed when promised activities do not actually occur."

_'I can just about imagine which activities she's referring to, the cheeky tart.'_

Severus snorted softly at hearing the thought and folded his arms to his chest. Narrowing her eyes slightly, the elder witch scrutinized him while a few of their colleagues quietly brainstormed possible ideas for filling a few Quidditch-less, Apparition lesson-less Saturdays. When it became apparent to him that she was questioning his presence within her head, he cracked a small smirk.

Minerva's eyes widened as her mental shields slammed down immediately, forcing him fully out of her mind. With a pointed glare, she mouthed, "And stay out."

After fifteen minutes, he made another attempt only to find her fully prepared for it. Within seconds, she had thrown him out and delivered a hearty kick to his shin beneath the table, causing him to dribble hot tea down the side of his hand.

Clucking loudly, she shook her head. "Dear, dear, Severus. Do be careful."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I don't recall giving you permission to go digging through my head at all hours of the day," Minerva snapped as soon they were alone in her office. "In fact, I believe I said quite the opposite."

"I do recall promising to train you in Occlumency, however," the Slytherin countered, "which includes training you to recognize intrusions… at _all hours_ of the day."

The witch huffed, but was unable to find fault with his explanation. "Must you always be right?"

"Not always, I'm certain," he shrugged. "Though I do value consistency… and configuration."

Her eyes narrowed quickly as she took in his amused expression.

"Murgatroyd, Minerva?" he quipped.

Groaning, the woman dropped into her seat.

"You know," he continued, "had you not spent so much time dithering about with the two principles you couldn't remember, you would have had time to respond to the second part of the prompt. You would have earned a far higher –"

"Yes, I _know_!" McGonagall hissed. "Believe me, Severus – that idiotic mistake of mine has irked me several hundred times over the past forty-five years. I have forever regretted that 'E', so I would appreciate you not rubbing it in my face."

"An '_E'_? You _failed_ to provide the most _basic_ idea in Potions – which is central to all else in the field – and they _still_ gave you an 'E'?" the wizard scoffed.

"Oh, shut it," she sighed, folding her arms. "Are you quite done wasting the time we do have available for –"

"Who says I'm wasting it?"

"What? You…" The Deputy Headmistress frowned and stared at him incredulously. "How long?"

"About three minutes," he replied.

"Merlin." After taking in a deep breath, she shook her head. "Fine. Exactly what do you propose we do, then?"

Severus cleared his throat and finally claimed a chair. "You and I are going to sit here until you can tell with certainty that I am using Legilimency on you. As it would be nigh impossible for you to maintain your shields at all times, you are not to employ your shields now until you have detected a breach."

The witch stared at him incredulously. "So you're just randomly going to jump in and out of my head until I can guess –"

"No guessing," he interrupted. "And I _will know_ if you are guessing."

Minerva exhaled slowly and dropped her arms to her sides.

"Hermione took twenty-five attempts before she was fully competent in detection," her colleague stated casually. "So far, you're at five."

"Five?" she gasped. "Since when?"

"Since we left the staffroom."

"You're kidd –"

"Six," he interrupted.

"Bugger."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Harry grunted loudly as he accidently walked into Ron, who had suddenly stopped short on the bottom step of the staircase.

Glancing at her friends, Hermione grew somewhat concerned upon noticing the expression frozen upon the redhead's face. "Ronald –"

"Tell me that one of you saw that," he mumbled, looking around at each of his companions.

The dark-haired boy rubbed his chin where it had smacked into the boy in front of him. "Saw what?"

"What did you see, Ronnie?" Lavender asked, leaning into her boyfriend and resting her head on his shoulder.

When Hermione only quizzically stared at her wide-eyed friend, Ron slowly returned his gaze to the seemingly empty corridor and shook his head. "I must be seeing things."

"Ronnie, you're scaring me," the blonde cooed. "What's wrong, love?"

The boy let out a slow puff of air and gestured down the hall. "Snape was just there… only… I could have sworn he had a tail."

"A tail?" Hermione gasped.

"Yeah," Ron nodded, looking to her. "Like a horse's tail."

"Well, wouldn't that be silly? Could you imagine what he would've done to anyone who dared to do such a thing?" his girlfriend giggled before tugging on his arm and sending her former roommate an angry glare. "Come along, Ronnie – you're probably just hungry."

"Yeah, I probably am," he smiled, slipping his arm about her waist. "Lucky it's time for dinner, aren't I?"

"Yes, _lucky_ you," Lavender replied while casting a smug look over her shoulder as they strode down the final flight of stairs to the ground floor. "And maybe after we eat, we can take a bit of a nap."

"Well, I am a bit tired."

Ignoring the other girl's antics, Hermione focused instead on sending a mental Patronus.

"Well, at least she's stopped calling him Won-won," Harry muttered quietly.

She flashed a brief grin as they continued walking down the steps.

**'What do you need?'**

_'Erm… this may sound a bit odd, but do you… you don't, by chance, have a tail right now, do you?'_ The witch felt like a complete idiot for having entertained the notion and, as such, readily prepared herself to be mocked. When several seconds passed without an irritable reply, however, she began to grow suspicious. _'Severus?'_

**'If Weasley breathes a word…'**

_'He won't. Lavvy-poo's already chasing the memory out of his head.'_ She paused briefly at the bottom of the stairs. _ 'Do you need help, or can you remove it yourself?'_

**'I plan on remaining out of sight until the situation resolves itself.'**

Hermione snorted under her breath. "Harry, I'm just going to check the infirmary to see if Madam Pomfrey needs my help tonight. I'll see you later."

"Oh," the boy murmured in surprise. "Alright, then. Can I ask you some Potions questions later?"

"Sure," she nodded. After parting ways, she rolled her eyes and set off at a brisk pace_. 'A tail can take hours to fade on its own, you know.'_

**'I do not require your assistance.'**

_'Fine. Do you plan on standing or on lying on your stomach for the next four hours?'_

**'Don't be ridiculous, Granger.'**

_'And just how do you propose you'll manage to sit down?'_ As silence met her, the witch quirked her lip as she played the winning card_. 'It would be rather unfortunate, you know, if you were to be summoned in the –'_

**'Fine! But you had better know what you're doing!'**

Feeling victorious, the girl hustled up the eastern staircases and through the corridors until she reached the portrait door leading to his quarters. With hardly a second's delay, she took in a deep breath and pushed into his sitting room.

"So much as one giggle leaves your mouth, and I will toss you out on your backside with your own extra appendage."

Hermione had to bite down on her lip to keep a laugh from escaping, but one look at the murderous expression quickly sobered her mood. Clearing her throat, she risked a few steps forward. "Well, turn about then."

Glaring, Severus folded his arms.

"In order to get _rid_ of it," she argued, "I have to be able to _see_ it."

"You're certain you know how to do this?"

"I am."

The wizard eyed her critically. "You've done it before?"

"I have," she nodded. "As I am not the School Matron and you are not the individual's Head of House, I am not allowed to give you a name, but suffice it to say that I have had sufficient practice."

"You and I appear to have different definitions of the word 'sufficient'."

"Fine," she sighed, stepping toward the fireplace. "Shall I Floo Madam Pomfrey, then?"

"Don't you dare," he growled.

A slow smile spread across her face as she looked to him. At her pointed stare, the man huffed and begrudgingly turned his back to her. Her hand instantly flew to her mouth at the sight of the long, chestnut colored hairs lifting up and protruding from beneath his frock coat. As she stared at the appendage for several seconds, it swished with unmistakable irritation, and she had to pinch her lips together to keep from laughing.

"If you've finished gaping…"

"Alright," the girl murmured, withdrawing her wand. "It would be easier if you could remove your coat."

Muttering under his breath, Snape began undoing his buttons.

"You know… if you had been wearing your teaching robes, no one would have –"

"Yes, I know! And that's exactly why that bloody harridan removed them first."

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione cocked her head. "Severus, what did you –"

"I was merely demonstrating the need for her to be more rigorous in her Occlumency practice," he interrupted grumpily.

"Occlumency," she repeated softly. "You're teaching her?"

At the change in her tone, the wizard briefly glanced over his shoulder and then dipped his head. "Someone has to be ready to lead."

The young woman nodded solemnly as she withdrew her wand. "Erm, this is probably going to sting a bit."

"I can manage, I'm sure."

"Okay," she whispered. After taking in a few deep breaths, she scrunched up her nose in focus as she cleanly executed the necessary procedure. When she had finished, she stared at him in moderate disbelief for he had betrayed no signs of discomfort. She had not expected anything near the level of waterworks that Marcus Turpin had showcased during his tail removal, of course, but a wince or twitch had not been out of the question. While part of her was in awe of his high tolerance for pain, the remainder lamented that he had had so many opportunities to develop such a tolerance.

"Are you quite finished?"

The witch snapped out of her thoughts and finally dropped her wand hand. When she gave a quiet affirmative, he grunted and immediately swung his frock coat across his shoulders. Watching him re-dress, she cleared her throat. "Does everything feel alright?"

"Yes, its fine," he snapped as he worked on the first button. After a second, he thought better of his shortness. Sighing, he turned enough to look at her. "Thank you."

Hermione offered him a brief smile before sheathing her wand and crossing her arms. "How long have you been teaching her?"

"Six weeks."

"Ah," she murmured, looking to the floor. She knew how impatient and demanding he could be in that situation, and he was likely worse given that there was the risk that Dumbledore's poisoning would go awry. If he was feeling pressured to get McGonagall prepared before the poison took effect, she could fully believe that he might raise the woman's ire to such a point. Raising her eyes, she noticed that the man had stalled in the midst of buttoning and was staring sullenly at the fireplace.

"Severus?" When his gaze slowly travelled to her face, she stepped closer. "Did everything go alright yesterday?"

Snape exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead. "All according to plan."

"But you're worried?" she pressed.

The man snorted under his breath as he met her eyes. "If I were certain of outcomes, Granger, we wouldn't presently be in this situation."

"I know," the witch whispered, touching his arm, "but I have faith in you. I mean, you're brilliant – if anyone could manage it, it would be you."

Though the corners of his lips turned upward, the attempt to smile did not quite reach his eyes. "Only time will tell, I suppose."

Hermione nodded and squeezed his forearm. "Any guess as to how long –"

A strong knock on the door interrupted her, and the pair froze in fear.

"Shit, Granger," he hissed. "You shouldn't be here."

"Everyone's at supper," she frantically whispered back. "I thought it would be okay!"

"Fuck!" he groaned, wiping his hands over his face as the knock repeated. Grabbing hold of her elbow, he tugged her toward his bedroom. "If it's Lupin, we may already be screwed, but on the off-chance it isn't, we'll go down to the office where you will be consulting me on how to improve your brewing for the –"

The click of the door swinging open caused him to stop suddenly in his tracks. Pushing the girl out of sight, he spun on his heel and peered around the door jamb of his bedroom door.

"Severus!" Minerva called as she shut the door behind her. "I know you're hiding in here."

"You had better be alone, woman!" he snarled.

The Deputy Headmistress chuckled softly as she made her way through the sitting room, depositing his teaching robes on the back of the sofa. "Of course, I am."

As Hermione gave a loud sigh of relief, the wizard straightened to his full height and folded his arms to his chest. "If you've come to admire your handiwork –"

"Nonsense," McGonagall interrupted with a wave of her hand. "Even I would not be so cruel as to leave you like that for any significant length of time."

"Yet cruel enough to do it in the first place," he retorted, stepping out into the sitting room.

"Don't take that tone with me, young man," the witch chastised, wagging her finger. "Your behavior was abominable. Now, I've come to undo it, so –"

"Your aid is entirely unnecessary."

"What do you mean, _unnecessary_?" she scoffed. Her eyes widened when he turned about just long enough to display his backside. "But how did you… I mean, that's not something you can do yourself, and Poppy said she hadn't seen you since yesterday, so how – Oh, Miss Granger."

Hermione gave a small smile as she stepped around the scowling man. "Hello, Professor."

"He asked for your help, did he?" the woman asked; her eyes suddenly alight.

"I did nothing of the sort," Snape sneered.

The young Gryffindor blushed and shook her head. "Erm, Ron happened to catch a glimpse… and well, I sort of forced my help on him."

"I see," Minerva smirked, glancing between the two of them. "Well, it looks like you've done a remarkable job of it at any rate. Poppy shall be quite pleased to hear –"

"Don't you even think of it, witch!" the Slytherin threatened.

"Well, I don't think you have any say in my _past_ discussions," she stated calmly. "I assure you, though, Poppy found it a rather amusing _tale_."

With an exasperated groan, he rolled his eyes. While her Head of House chuckled at her own joke, Hermione glanced uncertainly at her partner. He did not seem as angry or melancholy as she had seen him at times, but neither did he appear the least bit amused. Mostly, he just looked tired.

_If he's allowed himself to appear tired, he must be exhausted._

**'Five points to Gryffindor.'**

The girl bit down on her lip. _'I didn't realize you were still listening.'_

**'My apologies.'**

_'No, no! It's alright. Really, it is,' _she reassured him._ 'Have you slept at all lately?'_

He sighed out loud and pinched the bridge of his nose**. 'I'm fine, Granger.'**

_'You don't look fine.'_

When he dropped his hand and fixed her with a dark stare, McGonagall cleared her throat and reached for the girl's elbow. "Come along, Miss Granger. I think we ought to walk down to nab a bite to eat and allow _someone_ to get some rest."

"What?" Severus grumbled. "Sending me to bed without supper, are we?"

"You're far too cranky for polite company," the elder witch replied. "Get some sleep, Severus. We'll see you in the morning."

"I have rounds," he protested.

Minerva shook her head. "I'll do them. You sleep now because I really don't want to deal with crying children tomorrow. Go on now."

Though he snarled bitterly under his breath, the wizard turned on his heel and stalked into his bedroom. As the door slammed shut behind him, the Deputy Headmistress let out a slow sigh and shook her head. "What are we going to do with him?"

Hermione snorted softly before glancing up at her favorite instructor. "Well, he probably wouldn't be so temperamental if you hadn't given him a tail."

"Oh, I don't believe that for a second," the woman disagreed as they headed toward the door. "He was just as bad before that. He was obnoxious yesterday, but today was… uff."

She paused while opening the door, but spoke again as soon as they were outside of his quarters. "And before you judge me too harshly for punishing him in such a manner, I would like to explain that he has been warned on several occasions that he ought to behave himself or suffer the consequences."

"But a _tail_?" the young witch asked skeptically.

Her Head of House quirked her lips into a self-satisfied smirk. "Well, he was acting like a horse's arse, so I thought it relatively fitting."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Hermione took in a deep breath, pausing with her hand on the door knob of the Room of Requirement. It had been two days since Dumbledore had been poisoned, and as of yet, there had been no signs of it taking effect. There was, however, a noticeable cloud of tension hanging over the school. Though there were very few individuals – Dumbledore, Snape, and Draco – in addition to herself who knew of its cause, many other students and members of staff had commented that they could feel that there was something ill lurking on the horizon.

She also found it concerning to note the extent to which it seemed to be affecting Severus. While he did not appear any different when instructing, the same could not be said outside of the classroom. He had not sat for an entire meal period since Friday noon, and when he was in the Great Hall, her subtle scrutiny had revealed that he had done little more than pick at his food. She had rarely managed to catch a glimpse of him in the corridors, which was out of the ordinary, and due to the continuing presence of dark circles beneath his eyes, she did not believe that he was spending the time catching up on sleep.

His mental missive to her which instructed her to meet him in the Room of Requirement for her training session was exceptionally clipped, and she doubted he had even waited for her affirmative response before silencing the connection. Because of this, she felt a great dose of nervous energy settling into her gut as she considered just what could be awaiting her on the other side of the door.

As chimes began to sound the hour, the young witch gathered up all of the courage she could muster and strode forcefully into the room. As the door clicked shut behind her, however, she felt all of the breath escape her body.

"Holy…" she murmured; her gaze sweeping slowly at the space around her. Gone were the massive cushioned mats that normally covered the floor, and instead, dozens of elements reminiscent of the Forbidden Forest were packed into the Room in such a way that there did not appear to be any clearly identifiably paths through it.

As the wizard was nowhere in her line of sight, she hesitantly stepped forward and cleared her throat. "Severus?"

"Up here."

Hermione frowned. "Up where?"

"To your right," he replied.

"Oh," she murmured upon seeing him leaning against the railing of what appeared to be a small balcony. Shifting her weight, she scratched the back of her neck. "Erm, what exactly is all of this?"

He smirked briefly and shrugged his shoulders. "Training."

The witch rolled her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I had realized that much, yes. I meant, _what_ am I to be doing?"

With a small nod of his head, Snape straightened to his full height. "You have developed remarkable competence in dueling thus far, and though you have far more to learn, I would be doing you a disservice if I did not present you with opportunities to practice in more natural settings. The likelihood that you will solely encounter battle in a controlled environment is next to nil. You've already completed an obstacle course of sorts while flying, so tonight, you're going to do something similar on foot."

"With dueling?" the girl mumbled, glancing back at the nearest gap in the foliage.

"Correct," he responded, gesturing vaguely toward the interior of the room. "A dozen fighting dummies, a number of which have been charmed to attack you."

"A number of which," she repeated slowly. "What about the rest of them?"

"Bystanders, allies… think of them what you will."

Hermione let out a deep sigh. "And how exactly am I to know whether they're friend or foe without waiting for them to strike first?"

A tight grin spread across his face as he gripped the railing. "An excellent question, Granger."

"Fantastic," she muttered gloomily, withdrawing her wand and cautiously approaching the edge of the makeshift forest when it became clear that he was not going to answer. "Oh, this won't be difficult at all."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oof," she grunted, slamming into the side of a tree after tripping over uneven ground. "Damn it."

Leaning against the tree, she wiped at her forehead where a bead of sweat was slowly trickling its way toward her nose. She had been picking her way through the mess for what had to have been more than half an hour, and had managed to fell four of the roving dummies. The first three had given her little challenge, though the fourth had managed to sneak up on her while she was attempting to beat her way out of the Wandering Vine which had grabbed hold of her ankle.

After catching her breath, Hermione pushed away from the tree and carefully slid down a small, rocky embankment. She continued on for several minutes until spotting movement in the corner of her eye. With hardly more than a second to react, she had not the time to duck out of sight before the wooden dummy raised its wand-wielding arm.

"Reducto!" she shouted, releasing a jet of light before one could be sent in her direction. The witch felt a mild spurt of relief as the object exploded into a hundred pieces, but when a high-pitched squeal erupted throughout the room, she dropped to her knees and rolled behind a large rock. Seconds ticked slowly past while she held her breath and warily scanned the area from her protected vantage. When nothing she saw could explain the continuous, obnoxious noise, she leaned against the cold stone. "What the hell is that?"

"That, Granger, is the sound of a set of wards which you just managed to activate."

As Snape's voice drifted toward her, the girl looked up toward the ceiling and frowned. "Activated them how?"

The wizard tiredly leaned against the railing. "By destroying a non-enemy combatant."

"A non-enemy combatant?" she repeated while slowly standing from her crouched position. "Are you kidding me? He raised his wand to attack me!"

"Raised its wand, yes," he murmured, "but to attack you, no."

"Then why –"

"If you were to come across someone by surprise while in a dangerous area, would you not raise your wand until you were certain of just who it is you have encountered?"

Hermione groaned and hung her head. "Yes… I would."

"Congratulations, Granger," he sneered. "You just fatally maimed one of your idiot friends. Longbottom, perhaps."

Her head snapped up in his direction while her stomach twisted. "I would have _known_ it was Neville! I wouldn't have –"

"_Would_ you have known?" he interrupted.

"Yes!" she hissed.

Severus scoffed in disbelief and then folded his arms. "Fine, then. For the sake of humoring you, it was an individual entirely unknown to you - perhaps an innocent fifteen year old boy, an expectant mother, or a father of four. Does that put you any more at ease?"

"Of course it doesn't!" the girl argued. "How could that possibly make me feel any better?"

"You should bear that in mind, then, henceforth."

Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her face and shook her head. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to… I thought it was attacking me, so I reacted."

"I am certain that his widow and four fatherless children will be entirely sympathetic."

Hermione's jaw dropped at the coldness of his tone. She opened her mouth to protest the statement, but only managed a shriek when a painful stinging sensation suddenly engulfed her spine. With tears slipping out of her eyes, she spun around quickly, but failed to raise her wand before it was thrown out of her hand. A second Stinging Hex hit her midsection, causing her to stumble backwards and trip over a tree root. Before she could even think about crawling away, her entire body became paralyzed. There was nothing she could do when three fighting dummies circled into her limited line of sight and pointed their wands into her face.

"Enough!" The Slytherin Head barked as he appeared on the ground near her. With a wave of his hand, the three wooden dummies rolled away from her petrified body and innocuously parked a few meters away. "_Finite incantatem_."

As her body jerked back into animation and warmth again flooded her limbs, the witch slowly sat up and held her head in her hands.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"Well _what_?" she whispered.

"What have you learned?"

Hermione exhaled bitterly and dropped her hands to her lap. Fixing her gaze onto his face, she replied, "I suppose I learned to pay better attention to my surroundings."

"Indeed," he drawled, folding his arms to his chest. "Though, one would assume that after your unfortunate dip in the Black Lake, you would have already known better than to ignore the danger lurking right in front of your face."

"What?" she cried, launching up to her feet. "_You_ were the one talking to me! You're the one commanding this whole little exercise, so _excuse_ me for thinking that you wouldn't purposely distract me!"

He rolled his eyes. "If the Dark Lord offers a temporary truce in the middle of battle, are you so naïve that you might think it a good time to sit down to tea?"

"No!" she growled. "But _you're_ on _my_ side! You aren't supposed to –"

"Oh, because allies can never be distracting?" the wizard countered. "If that is your belief, then I was wholly mistaken in my initial assessment of your abilities. Clearly, you are not prepared to –"

"I _know_ I'm not! _You're_ the one who is supposed to prepare me!"

Snape shook his head. "_I_ can only give you the tools and the opportunity. _You_ are the one who must exert more effort to –"

"_More_ effort?" she repeated in anger. "I'm fucking exhausted as it is! How the hell can I possibly exert any more effort? Do tell me! I'd love to hear it."

His dark eyes locked on to hers for several seconds before he finally answered. "Six months. That's how much time I've sunk into training you. And in that time, I have explicitly told you, at least once or twice per week, that you must be more cognizant of your surroundings. If you do not pay attention… if you do not think before acting… the consequences _will_ be disastrous. This is not a game, Granger. This is not a classroom. We are at war, and if you think I'm going to hold your hand and pat you on the head every hour you manage to keep yourself alive, you had better start rethinking."

Hermione's expression was hard as she stared back at him. Her chest rose and fell angrily, and she balled her hands into fists at her sides. When he finished speaking, she slowly shook her head and pinched her mouth in disgust. "You know what, Severus? Fuck you."

With that utterance, she swiftly spun on her heel, snatched her wand from the ground, and took off in what she could only assume was the direction of the door. The Room, sensing her need for a quick escape, shed itself of the hazardous terrain and significantly shortened the distance between her and the exit.

When she finally burst through the door, she did not pause for any length of time in the corridor. She simply pressed on in her flight, walking faster and faster until she was practically running toward the Fat Lady's Portrait. Once in the common room, she spoke to no one, opting simply to rush up to the bathroom in her dormitory lest any delay cause her to break down in tears before reaching privacy.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Frowning, Hermione pushed half a dozen peas about her plate as she determinedly ignored the urge to look in the direction of the Head Table. It had been a day and a half since she had stormed out of her personal defense lesson, and neither she nor Severus had yet made any efforts to make peace. Two Potions brewing sessions had passed with each of them all but pretending that the other did not exist. She had offered no answers to his questions, and he had given no commentary – disparaging, or otherwise – on her technique or product.

Though she had no wish to apologize before he did, a small part of her was more than ready to cave. She was angry with him certainly, but she did not wish him ill especially considering the present situation. Frankly, she missed him, and because of that, was almost ready to tell him that she understood why he had said what he did. He really had instructed her repeatedly to be vigilant, yet she had so far failed to do so. She should have kept her wits about her while completing the course, should have thought more deeply before acting, and should have focused on the tasks before her instead of wasting time to argue with him. _He had several good points…_

_… but he still had no right to speak to me like that._ She had been trying so hard to accomplish so much in those six months he had spent training her, and to have him essentially declare her progress to be insignificant was a rather devastating blow to her self-confidence. _Of course I realize he's under a heavy amount of stress, but, damn it, so am I! And _he_ doesn't have to endure it all on top of uterine cramps. He's lucky I even showed up for lessons. I would have much preferred lying in bed, curled up with Crooks than traipsing about a fake forest, fighting fake Death Eaters._

_Stop it, Granger. Do you think Vo—the Dark Lord is going to take into account your menstrual cycle when planning his attacks? Suck it up._ The witch let out a frustrated breath and let her spoon drop against the porcelain plate. To use her monthly period as an excuse for her lackluster performance was rather pathetic given the situation. That being said, Snape had unfortunately picked the time of the month during which she was the least emotionally stable and the most self-conscious to behave like an arse.

_And he did behave horribly_! She could no longer find fault with Professor McGonagall's decision to temporarily bequeath him a tail. If he had spoken to the Gryffindor Head in a similar manner to which he had spoken to her, then Hermione truthfully admired the woman's restraint.

And because of that thought, she strengthened her resolve to not be the first to apologize. Yes, she had failed the task he set her, and yes, she had argued with and cursed at him, but that did not mean that he should have treated her as though she were completely incompetent and a colossal waste of his time. He had instructed her a month ago to confront him if ever he hurt her, but she reckoned that her angry words of parting should have been sufficient confrontation. Since he seemed content enough in ignoring her, then by gods, she would react in kind. Whenever he did manage to scrape together an apology for her, she would unquestioningly forgive him, but until then…

"Hermione, are you alright?"

Startling out of her thoughts, the young witch glanced across the table to see a friend giving her a concerned look. "I'm fine, Neville."

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I mean, you look –"

"Yes," she interrupted. "I'm just –"

"Oh, my gods!" Ginny exclaimed, dropping her entire forkload back to her plate.

As similar gasps erupted from each of the four student tables, Hermione whipped her head around to peer at the Head Table. Upon catching sight of the deathly-pale Headmaster clutching at his throat, her stomach dropped and she let out a panicked breath. _Oh, fuck. It's really happening._

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Albus?" McGonagall questioned, slowly lowering her utensil to the plate, as the man to her left suddenly began making odd gargling noises. When he grabbed at his throat and started tipping out of his chair, she launched to her feet in a panic. "Albus!"

The typical merry chatter of the Great Hall had completely fallen away at her outburst, and gradually students as well as staff began murmuring amongst themselves while rising to their feet in the hopes of catching a better view.

"Severus!" the Deputy Headmistress gasped upon grabbing hold of her superior's sagging shoulders. She opened her mouth to shout for him, but it fell back to a whisper when the younger wizard immediately appeared at her side. "Severus… help me… lie him down."

Without bothering to even nod, Snape took hold of the gasping man's shoulders and kicked the ornate chair out of the way with enough force that it tipped over and clattered loudly against the stone floor. The two professors worked together to guide Dumbledore to the ground, and then both sank to their knees beside him.

"Albus, can you hear me?" Minerva asked, taking up his hand with one of hers and touching his face with the other. When the old man's eyes rolled back in his head, she concernedly observed the bluish tint to his skin. "Is his airway blocked?"

Her Slytherin counterpart cast a quick charm and then shook his head.

"So he isn't choking?"

"No," the Potions Master stated before quickly fumbling with a pocket of his robes. After producing a bezoar, he pushed the stone into the Headmaster's throat and coaxed him to swallow it. "We need to relocate to somewhere more private."

"Infirmary?" she questioned.

He shook his head again. "Too exposed."

"His quarters, then. Can we levitate him?" At his responding grimace, Minerva nodded and began to rise. "Right. Hagrid, we'll need you to carry him. Remus, alert the Aurors and have them meet us in the Head Office. Pomona, Filius – take whomever you need, but make certain that all students are escorted back to and remain within their dormitories. Classes are cancelled for the remainder of the day. And for god's sake, will someone fetch Poppy?"

After rattling off her final instructions, the witch turned on her heel and ran to catch up with Snape and Hagrid, who had already made it to the staff exit. She touched the former's arm briefly as she brushed past them and then gestured to the small set of stairs leading to the first floor. "We'll go through my office and Floo in. It's faster."

Within a few moments, the half-giant stepped through the green flames into the Headmaster's office, followed closely by the two Heads of House. The portraits began tittering softly as McGonagall again took the lead as they made their way through the semi-camouflaged doorway and up the half-flight of stairs that led to Dumbledore's private living space.

By the time they managed to lay the unresponsive Headmaster onto his bed, the activation of the office Floo could be heard again. A harried looking Poppy Pomfrey appeared within the bedroom doorway less than a minute later, while several loud voices and footsteps could be heard as a number of Aurors arrived in the office below.

"What happened?" the mediwitch gasped, immediately casting diagnostic charms as she made her way to the bedside.

"Poison, most likely," Severus replied quietly.

"Poison!"

The three Hogwarts professors glanced up to see that Tonks had entered the room with Kingsley and two other Aurors hot on her heels. Madam Pomfrey, however, maintained sole focus on the Headmaster's condition. After finishing another sweep of her wand, she reached for a small sack tucked into the waistline of her apron. "Severus, did you –"

"I applied a bezoar, yes," he stated with a small nod. "It does not appear to have made any effect, however. I only had one stone on my person, or else I –"

"One is far better than none," Poppy replied curtly as she fished out a drab green potion. "And it could very well be that the bezoar is preventing the worsening of his symptoms."

"Minerva," Kingsley addressed the Deputy Headmistress calmly as he stepped further into the room. "If Albus has indeed been poisoned, we will need to collect any trace of the substance we can. The meal in the Great Hall must be preserved as best it –"

"Of course," she nodded, glancing briefly at the two conversing quietly over the patient. She then cleared her throat and called out, "Coggy!"

A pinkish elf in a flour-caked apron suddenly popped into the room. "Coggy's been being summoned, Madam?"

"We need the Great Hall to remain as it is for the time being," McGonagall informed him. "It is imperative that none of the dishes or food be cleared away until further notice. Is that understood?"

The little creature shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. "Yes, Madam. Coggy knows."

"Good. Make certain that the others do, too."

As the elf disappeared, Minerva stood tall and looked to the tall Auror. "Kingsley, what else do you need?"

"The castle will have to be thoroughly searched," he replied, crossing his arms to his chest. "Poppy, what type of poison do you suspect?"

The Healer frowned and flicked her gaze to her current assistant. "Severus?"

Snape shook his head with a sigh. "There is not enough evidence present to discern the exact cause. Choking, paleness, sweating, falling unconscious – these are all symptoms of any of a hundred substances."

"Well, it wasn't _any_ of a hundred that poisoned him, was it?" Mad-Eye Moody snarled as he limped past the three junior Aurors and came to stand beside Shacklebolt. "It was _one_ particular substance!"

"Obviously," the Slytherin muttered bitterly. "Without further analysis, however, identifying it will be –"

"Severus, stand back!" Poppy snapped as she propped Albus up on his side. The wizard took one long stride away from the bed, stopping just far enough that no droplets of bile landed on his boots when the emetic potion finally took effect. When she was certain that it was safe to do so, the mediwitch returned her patient to lie on his back and then gestured to the pile of partially digested food on the carpet. "There. If he was dosed recently, there ought to be traces of it in that."

Conjuring a sizeable flask, the Potions Master moved toward the mess only to be stopped by a firm hand on his elbow.

"If you don't mind," Moody murmured, "I'll be getting that."

"Oh, by all means," Snape returned with a roll of his eyes when the ex-Auror made a show of producing a new flask.

Once the vomit had been collected, Moody magically secured the flask and handed it over to a tall, dark-haired witch. "Jennings, see to it that Multane gets to work on this immediately. If he so much as takes a piss before delivering the analysis to me –"

"Got it, sir," Jennings stated quickly before turning on her heel and sprinting down the narrow staircase.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Savage, summon the reserve staff. I want Proudfoot and Dawlish to remain at their posts, but they will need assistance as well in ascertaining that the grounds are fully secure."

"Alright," the fair-haired Auror nodded. "How many from the reserve?"

"All of them, you idiot!" Mad-Eye growled.

"_All_ of them?" Savage repeated, swinging his gaze to Shacklebolt, who nodded. "Alright, sir. All of them, then."

"And keep it bloody quiet!" the grizzled wizard shouted after him. "Not a word of this until they are all present and can be privately informed!"

When it was only Order members remaining in the room, Moody quickly rounded on their spy. "Any information you care to share, Snape?"

"Alastor," McGonagall cautioned, placing a hand on his forearm.

"Well?" the retired Auror snapped.

"I assure you all – had I known anything of this, I would have immediately reported it to the Headmaster," Severus replied steadily while maintaining eye contact with the man.

"Alastor!" Minerva repeated in a harsher tone.

With a disgusted hiss, Moody turned his attention to the Deputy Headmistress. "The students need to be –"

"I have already instructed the staff that the students are to remain within their dormitories for the remainder of the day," she interrupted.

The man grunted and shifted his stance. "It had best be until further notice. And no outgoing post, either, until the entire castle has been searched."

"Alright," she replied. "I shall see to it that the Owlery is made inaccessible."

"Incoming post will be screened prior to dispersal," Alastor continued gruffly. "I want each dormitory entrance warded and watched by an Auror until they can be thoroughly searched."

McGonagall took in an uncomfortable breath, but gave a small noise of affirmation.

"We will start with the Great Hall and kitchens this afternoon before moving onto classrooms and staff quarters –"

"Surely you do not suspect that the staff is involved!" she declared, crossing her arms.

"Forgive me, Minerva, but I find certain individuals are not nearly as trustworthy as you seem to believe," Moody replied while blatantly looking toward the Potions Master. "I think the dungeons would be a sensible place to start, eh, Snape? And when we've finished with offices, we'll move onto the dormitories. Again, I think we ought to work our way up from the bottom."

"What a fascinating idea," the Slytherin Head drawled. "However did you come to it?"

"Experience… years of dealing with snakes."

While Tonks, Kingsley, and Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, McGonagall straightened to her full height and stepped between the two wizards.

"Just one thing, Alastor. While it appears that you believe yourself to be in charge of the investigation though no longer attached to the Aurory –" She cast a pointed look at Kingsley, who sheepishly shrugged his shoulders. "—this is _my_ school for the time being. If you do not wish to find yourself forcibly expelled from the grounds, you _will_ treat my staff and students with a certain level of respect. In addition, I insist that, at the very least, the Heads of House, or a designated member of staff, be present during the search of their respective dormitories. I will also personally supervise the search of any staff quarters that I feel is necessary. Is that understood?"

"Of course," he replied before leaning forward. "You are far too trusting, Minerva."

The witch shook her head slowly. "I simply know where my trust should be placed. If you think that Severus had anything to do with this, then you are a fool!"

The Slytherin felt his stomach twist with guilt at the pronouncement, but outwardly betrayed no sign of it.

"We shall see," Moody stated while glancing over her shoulder to Snape. "I shall give him the benefit of the doubt for now… but he is not to leave these rooms until we have completed the search of his quarters. And Poppy, if you need further assistance, I will fetch someone from St. Mungo's."

"Not a very extensive benefit of the doubt, is it?" the spy quipped.

The ex-Auror snorted and then turned to leave the room. "Tonks, keep your eye on him."

"But, Mad-Eye!" the pink-haired witch hissed. "I would be of more use –"

"I want to be absolutely certain that he is not involved," her mentor explained quietly. "You are the only one I trust to the task. If there is nothing to find - by end of day you shall be free to join the rest of us."

Tonks opened her mouth to protest, but remained silent in response to his intense stare. She gave one nod and glumly watched as he and Kingsley strode out of the room. As she moved closer to the foot of the bed, she cast an apologetic glance toward the two Heads of House.

"It isn't your fault, dear," Minerva sighed, wiping her face. "Hagrid, could you please wait for the Aurors in the Entrance Hall, and once sentries have been posted at the common room entrances, gather the staff in the staffroom?"

"O'course, Professor," the half-giant murmured before quietly taking his leave.

"How is he, Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey exhaled deeply as she looked up from her post. "Stable, for now. I've given him a standard antidote, a strengthening potion, and a bit of the Angelaureus Elixir. It's about all anyone can do for the moment. It will simply be a matter of waiting, I'm afraid."

"Alright," the Gryffindor Head replied, smoothing her hands over her robes. "Tonks, if you don't mind waiting for us in the office, Severus and I will be down in just a quick moment."

"Sure thing, Professor."

When the pink-haired witch disappeared down the staircase, McGonagall dropped her voice and looked up at the wizard beside her. "Is there anything that needs to be removed?"

Snape took in a slow breath as he considered the question. "A document in the middle drawer… I am not certain if there is anything of hers."

Minerva gave a nod of understanding and then spoke crisply. "Dobby!"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, bloody… hell," Tonks muttered under her breath as she rubbed her shin.

Snape rolled his eyes and tapped his fingertips against the arm of his chair. "You do realize that that end table hasn't moved in the slightest since the last time you walked into it."

"Of course I know that!" she snapped.

The wizard watched her resume pacing for a moment. When he was certain she would not see him, he again stretched out his leg and pressed his boot against the end table. After silently sliding it another inch or so toward her designated path, he sat back in the armchair, crossed one leg over the other, and waited patiently for the impending yelp.

"Son of a bitch!" the young Auror shouted upon tripping over the piece of furniture a few minutes later.

Severus bit back a smile. "It generally helps if you look where you're going."

She let out a loud sigh and grabbed a fistful of her hair. "How much longer is this going to take? I feel so useless right now!"

"You need not tell me," he grumbled while glaring at the darkened window.

"This is utterly ridiculous," Tonks sputtered. "I just wish that –"

The statement died away in her throat when the Slytherin suddenly groaned and leaned forward.

"Fuck," Severus hissed, clutching his arm. Instead of the brief burning sensation that usually accompanied a summons, it felt as though his forearm had been doused in gasoline and set on fire. It was not difficult to discern that the Dark Lord was angry with him. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he slowly rose from the chair.

"Professor?" she asked, noticeably concerned.

"You ought to be able to join them in rifling through my unmentionables now," he mumbled while stepping past her to use the Floo.

"You're being summoned?"

Snape gave a stiff nod as he tossed in the Floo powder. "Tell Minerva where I've gone."

"Of course," Tonks replied, watching as he disappeared into the green flames. "Good luck… sir."


	66. Search and Seizure

**A/N: The long-awaited update is FINALLY here! Uff da! It has just been one hell of a busy semester, but thank you all for continuing to leave messages and being understanding. I love you all. Happy Thanksgiving!**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Bound to Him<strong>_

**Chapter 66**

His feet had scarcely touched the ground before a slicing hex tore through his left shoulder and brought him to his knees.

"So good of you to join us, Severus!" Voldemort hissed, leaning out of his chair.

"My Lord, I –"

"_Crucio_!"

Snape collapsed fully onto his stomach as every nerve ending in his body was set aflame. Tears involuntarily sprang into his eyes as he writhed on the floor for several long seconds.

"Ten hours!" the tyrant screeched after lifting the Unforgiveable. "Ten_ hours_ have passed since I was alerted to the fact that Aurors were dispatched to Hogwarts, and yet… not as much as a single word from you!"

The spy shakily drew in a breath and pushed himself back onto haunches. "My Lord… I apologize… I had no opportunity –"

"Lies!" Bellatrix interrupted as she moved to stand beside her master's seat. "He must be lying, my Lord."

"Enough!" Voldemort snapped with a glare in her direction. When she cowed to his demand, his red gaze swung back to the bleeding man before him. "_Legilimens_!"

Severus gasped as his mind was brutally ripped open, but he did not delay in feeding the Dark Lord the information he sought. The hours he had spent under Tonks's watch had given him ample time to alter his recollections enough that he had no concerns that they would not be accepted as truth. There was now a deep sense of surprise and confusion accompanying Dumbledore's collapse and no timely application of a bezoar. He had further falsified the memory by showing himself dropping the small stone which he had alleged to have used into the pile of vomit before Moody stepped forward to collect it. After much debating with himself, he had left the majority of Moody's confrontation intact – eliminating only any indications that Minerva was anything more than a professional colleague standing up for her fellow Head of House.

Upon being released, he fell forward, barely catching himself with his right elbow before his nose hit the floor. His hair was yanked back a second later, and he found himself staring into Voldemort's astounded face. When a second _Legilimens_ was cast, Snape again pushed forth the altered memories.

A raucous laugh escaped the tyrant as he moved his hands to the dark haired man's robes and pulled him to his feet.

"What is it, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked.

Voldemort roughly patted the Order spy on the cheek and then turned to gleefully address the rest of his gathered followers. "It appears that the almighty Dumbledore is not so mighty any longer! Poisoned!"

Excitement rippled through the dozen members present. Lucius, though, remained relatively stoic and subtly attempted to move closer to his wife. Narcissa was exceptionally pallid, swaying slightly on her feet until her husband's arm slipped around her waist to steady her.

"My Lord, is he dead?"

"Not entirely," the Dark Lord stated cheerily. "However, it is likely only a matter of time… thanks to Severus."

Bellatrix's smile vanished from her face to be replaced with a wide-eyed angry stare. "Thanks to _Severus_?"

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Snape donned a haughty smirk as the witch came into his direct line of sight. He did not imagine that it would take much provocation at all to draw her into the line of fire.

"And the boy?" Voldemort asked, narrowing his eyes at the concerned Malfoys briefly before returning his gaze to the wizard nearest him.

The Potions Master cleared his throat, knowing full well to feign ignorance. "Potter has been limited to his dormitory along with the rest of the students. Granger is keeping –"

"Not _Potter_!" the serpentine wizard snapped.

Severus faked a look of confusion and shook his head. "Forgive me, my Lord, but I do not know to whom –"

"I am _referring_ to the young Master Malfoy," came the impatient reply.

"Draco?" the Slytherin Head murmured, glancing toward the boy's parents. "I would imagine that the same holds true for him. I have not been allowed an opportunity to verify that all members of my House are accounted for, but I have heard no word to the contrary. Despite his mistrust in me, I am certain that that cross-eyed fuckwit would have taken great pleasure in informing me had one of my charges gone missing."

Eyes flashing in agreement, Voldemort spun to face the Malfoys. "For his sake, then, let us hope the boy left no evidence."

"Evidence?" Snape whispered. "_Draco_ was –"

"He doesn't even know!" Bellatrix hissed, drawing everyone's attention. "You try to take credit, but you don't know anything! Do you even know which poison was used?"

The spy raised one eyebrow as the short witch strode toward him. "I cannot definitively –"

"You can't even recognize Angel's Trumpet; _can_ you, Sevvie?" she sneered smugly. "And _you're_ supposed to be the _great_ Potions Master?"

Severus rolled his eyes. "One of the prominent characteristics of Angel's Trumpet is that its symptoms cannot be distinguished from those of several more common poisons. If _you_ knew anything _significant_ about poisons, Bella, you would surely be aware of that."

"I _knew_ enough about poisons to procure it, didn't I?" she screeched. "Draco may have been the one to deliver the poison, but he would _never_ have accomplished anything without my help! _I_ was the one who made it possible, not you, and when the Muggle-lover dies, it will be because of _me_! Draco merely did as _I_ told him to, and _you_! You did _nothing_, you worthless -"

"Bella, _do_ stop shrieking," Voldemort sighed, touching his forehead as though it were beginning to pain him. "If the old fool does finally expire, you shall have my gratitude for providing the means, as will Draco for accomplishing the feat, and Severus for ensuring that timely treatment measures were not enacted. You will all _share_ my favor; is that understood?"

Bellatrix continued glaring up at the younger wizard for several seconds before turning her attention to her master. "Yes, my Lord."

"Were I in a lesser mood, Bella, I would not be quite so forgiving of your selfishness."

"Of course, my Lord," she bowed, casting another dark look at Snape, and then dropped her voice to a low murmur. "You won't serve _any_ use to him once Dumbledore is dead."

"Oh, and I suppose you'll be brewing his restorative draughts, then?" the Potions Master returned under his breath.

The witch audibly hissed and then purposely bumped into his left side as she ambled toward her sister. Snape bit back a groan at the resulting throb of pain, but managed to remain relatively steady on his feet.

"Severus, my son," the Dark Lord chuckled while gracefully taking a seat in an ornate chair. "While it gives me no satisfaction to see you continue to suffer after bringing me such delicious news –"

_I find that incredibly hard to believe._

"—I think that your friends in the Order might find you more… _sympathetic_… in your present state."

As snickers broke out amongst the Death Eaters, the spy gave a small nod. "Of course, my Lord."

"Run along, then," Voldemort cooed, waving him off with his hand.

The professor stiffly turned to leave, but halted mid-step a moment later when he again heard his name.

"Oh, and Severus… should any developments arise," the tyrant instructed, focusing his red gaze upon the Malfoys, "I do expect that you will inform me with far greater expediency."

"Yes, my Lord."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Gah-fuck!" Severus cried, leaning against the castle gates and clutching at his shoulder. Apparating with open or recently repaired wounds always carried a heightened risk of splinching, which was why he had mandated that Hermione had to postpone her apparition lessons until long after he was sure her leg was healed. Unfortunately, he rarely was able to avoid that particular situation himself.

Breathing through his mouth, the wizard pulled his right hand away from his shoulder and attempted to ignore the queasiness that accompanied seeing it covered in his own blood. The initial slicing hex had not gone very deep, and he knew that he had carried enough focus to not do any extensive damage while travelling. That being said, it still stung like hell.

After wiping his hand on his robes, he reached for the gates, which narrowly opened with an audible creak. He slipped through to the grounds quickly and then immediately secured them.

"You there!" A gruff voice shouted. "Halt right there!"

Severus sighed deeply as two Aurors approached him with wands at the ready.

"Back so soon, Professor?" the second one sneered. "And just where was it you had to go in such a rush that you ignored our earlier shouts, hmm?"

"Oi! Back off, Druthers! He's with me!"

The chastised wizard gave a loud groan, but lowered his wand as Tonks stepped closer. "We were just wondering where it was the dear professor thought he would go when the entire castle has been instructed that no one is to leave the grounds."

"Well, if you're that curious, you can take it up with Mad-Eye," the witch sneered, grabbing hold of Snape's elbow and tugging it toward her, "seeing as _he_ was the one who sent Professor Snape on the errand. Shall I tell Mad-Eye to be expecting your _curiosity_?"

When the two men were quick to decline her offer, she quirked her lips and raised one pink eyebrow. "Toddle off, then, yeah?"

Snape watched the Aurors grudgingly return to their sentry before glancing down at his former student. "Nymphadora… have you grown weary of rifling through my unmentionables already?"

"Never got the chance," Tonks returned with a glare as they began the snowy trek back to the castle. "I've been standing out here in the cold, waiting for your sorry arse to return."

"What hardship you've endured," he snarled.

"Oh, for the _love_ of Merlin, would you shu-uh-ahh!" The Auror screeched as she slipped on a patch of ice and instinctively latched onto his arm to keep herself from falling.

Severus hissed loudly and immediately yanked his injured limb out of her grasp. Though the action essentially dropped the witch on her rump, he did not offer her further assistance. Instead, he began striding faster down the path, cradling his left arm to his chest.

"Fuck's sake!" Tonks snapped while hauling herself to her feet. After brushing the snow off of her behind, she sprinted after him. "Professor! I –"

"Send your patronus to fetch Minerva and Moody," he interrupted with a cold glare. "_I_ will meet with them in the Head Office."

"Not without me, you're not," the woman muttered before withdrawing her wand. As the ghostly wolf bounded off with the message, she heard him give a derisive snort. Frowning, she folded her arms to her chest. "What?"

"Is that the scent of unrequited love I'm detecting, Nymphadora?"

Her hair flashed bright red as she faltered in her step. "And just what the hell would you know about it, Snape?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Snape!" Moody shouted as soon as the spy stepped clear of the emerald flames. "Did I not –"

"Alastor!" Minerva snapped. "He does not require your permission to respond to a summons – I will not say it again! Any delay in his response puts his safety at risk along with our chances of success!"

The grizzled Auror grumbled under his breath and folded his arms to his chest. "Fine. And just what was it you were so eager to run off and share with your Lord?"

"I wouldn't exactly say eager," Tonks muttered as she sank into a seat.

Severus inhaled deeply and subtly leaned against a chair for support. "Obviously, the Dark Lord was intrigued by the frenzy of activity and wished to… have his curiosity sated."

"And you, of course, took it upon yourself to satisfy him."

"It was unavoidable," the Potions Master sighed while attempting to will away the onset of light-headedness. "It was only a matter of limited time before he discovered the truth."

"Oh, is _that_ so?" Mad Eye snarled, stepping forward.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes upon seeing that her colleague was gripping the back of the armchair with enough force that his fingers were pressing deep into the plush fabric. When she noticed dark lines about the edges of his nailbeds, the increased pallor of his skin, and the slight quiver in his arms, she inhaled sharply and immediately grabbed hold of Moody's elbow. Before he could protest, she pressed past the ex-Auror and swiftly approached the younger man. "Hold on. Severus, are you injured?"

The spy grimaced and avoided meeting her gaze. "I'll be fine."

"_That_ isn't what I asked," she chastised, grabbing hold of his chin.

"Minerva, you can kiss his boo-boos later," Moody grumbled, "_After_ I've finished with him."

"Alastor! I am one remaining nerve away from transfiguring you into teapot!" the Deputy Headmistress hissed before turning her attention back to the spy. Spotting what appeared to be a tear in his robes, she gently reached out and pulled away the soaked fabric. The pungent scent of copper hit her hard, and she gasped loudly at seeing the deep gash across his shoulder. "Severus, you should have said something."

"I can take care of it when -"

"No, we're taking care of it now," the witch stated boldly before tugging him around the edge of the armchair and shooing Tonks out of it. "Sit down before you pass out. You know that the aftershocks will be far worse if you continue to strain yourself."

His dark eyes snapped to her face, causing her lips to upturn sadly. "I've seen enough of your stoic returns to be able to spot the signs of the Cruciatus."

"Fecking hell," the pink-haired witch whispered upon catching sight of the injury.

Snape rolled his eyes and glared at the ceiling. "By all means, Nymphadora: continue gawking."

"Tonks, dear," McGonagall murmured, "run upstairs to Poppy, and see if she can step away for a spell. I'd rather put her expertise to use than my own."

"Right," she agreed before setting off in a sprint.

The elder witch sucked in a deep breath before gently touching the edge of his wound. When he audibly hissed, she winced and mumbled a quick apology.

"Minerva, I -"

"Severus, is there something that can't wait ten bloody minutes?" she interrupted, casting a warning glare in Moody's direction lest he attempt to insert himself into the situation. When the injured wizard gave a slow shake of his head, she nodded decisively. "Then we wait until Poppy can mend this. Dumbledore may not have given your physical well-being top priority, but I will _not_ risk this worsening because you go into seizure. By the looks of it, you've already splinched yourself."

"Oh, for Merlin's _sake_!" Poppy declared while rushing into the room. "Is the whole bloody staff going to pieces today?"

McGonagall gave a sad snort and moved out of the matron nurse's way. After watching the woman immediately settle into healing, she took a few steps closer to the surprisingly quiet former Auror. Pulling her eyes away from her younger colleague for a moment, she dropped her voice. "Alastor, despite whatever history you and he may have... you don't have any idea how often he returns like this... or worse. Frankly, no one does because he's too damn stubborn to seek help. Usually, the only time we know of his injuries are when they are so extensive that he can't make it back to his quarters under his own power."

Mad-Eye pinched his face into a frown and cleared his throat. "Well, I guess... I didn't really think..."

The Gryffindor Head sighed loudly and rubbed her forehead. "Yes, well... as much as I respect Albus, he doesn't exactly concern himself with the welfare of individuals."

The wizard grunted in understanding and shifted his stance slightly. "Is there a particular reason Voldemort wished to sever your arm?"

Madam Pomfrey grumbled under her breath while her patient slowly blinked open his eyes. "Had the Dark Lord _wished_ to sever my arm, it would no longer be in my possession. This was merely... commentary on my timeliness."

Sucking in a quick breath, Minerva flashed a dark look in the ex-Auror's direction, who managed to appear a bit sheepish.

"And just how would he have known you would have had something to report?" Alastor asked gruffly.

Severus snorted in response and turned his head to meet the man's demanding gaze. "Because _you_ have a leak in the Aurory."

"What?" the man snapped as Tonks gasped.

"The Dark Lord..." Snape hissed in pain briefly, "...knew that the reserve had been called out to Hogwarts, and he grew upset when I did not report as to the reason in a timely fashion."

"He didn't know about the poisoning beforehand?" McGonagall asked; surprise evident in her tone.

The spy shook his head. "The only one who seemed to expect it was Bellatrix. She seemed... rather proud of herself."

"Lestrange?" Moody growled. "Just how did she manage that?"

"I don't know. She wouldn't say. Didn't want me to take credit for anything."

Tonks stepped forward, frowning. "That's why she killed the Jiggers family, isn't it? Silas Jiggers gave her the poison."

"Undoubtedly," Snape responded before attempting to sit straighter in his chair, earning himself a glare from the Healer. "She did manage to let slip the nature of the poison, though. Angel's Trumpet."

Poppy cursed under her breath while the three standing Order members exchanged concerned looks.

"There's no direct antidote for that, is there?"

After the Potions Master shook his head, Madam Pomfrey leaned back onto the stool she had conjured earlier. "Just tolerance and time. The Angelaureus potion is the best hope we have. Thankfully we have a fair amount in stock."

Severus grunted quietly. "Albus suggested it would be... advantageous to have it on hand."

"Is there anything else you know?" Moody pressed.

When the Slytherin indicated negatively, the matron nurse clucked at the former Auror in disapproval. "Perhaps you might let him be, then? Convulsions are likely to start any minute, and he needs to rest."

"Fine," the grizzled wizard muttered before lumbering toward the door. "Tonks?"

"Yeah?" the pink-haired Auror asked.

"Well, are you coming or not?" he snapped. "There's a discussion to be had with Shacklebolt."

"Of course!"

Minerva watched the two Aurors disappear through the door and then sank against the edge of Snape's chair. With a flick of her wand, she transfigured the nearby sofa into a bed and waited until Poppy had finished stitching the angry flesh back together. The two witches then hauled a protesting Severus to his feet and guided him into bed.

"I don't need -"

"Shut up," Madam Pomfrey stated sternly. "You _do_ need to rest."

"And let Hermione know you're alright," the Deputy Headmistress added. "I'm sure she's worrying herself sick."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"He's still not on the map," Harry whispered urgently for what was likely the twelfth time since darkness had fallen.

Hermione sighed and wrapped her arms about her knees. She had stopped trying to give the logical explanation that Dumbledore was either in his private bedchambers or had been taken to St. Mungo's since it was obvious that the boy was not listening anyway. Neither of them had yet to remove their eyes from the wrinkled sheet of parchment since they had holed up in the sixth year boys' dormitory several hours prior. The common room had been abuzz with whispers and speculation as soon as the Fat Lady's Portrait had been sealed behind them, and the activity had only intensified after McGonagall's voice had projected the announcement that all classes had been cancelled until further notice. Ron had watched the map, too, for a while until Lavender had made a fuss about being frightened, and the two of them had disappeared shortly after supper.

"Snape's back."

"Yes, I see," she whispered. Her eyes had locked onto his name the moment it had reappeared alongside Tonks's. She could not quite be certain how long he had been gone, but she had scarcely taken a comfortable breath in the meantime.

"He must have gone to Voldemort."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat even though she had come to that realization far earlier.

"Why would he –"

"Because he probably didn't have a choice," she snapped.

Harry flicked his gaze to her in response to her tone, but kept quiet as they watched McGonagall's and Moody's names join them in the Headmaster's Office. When Tonks disappeared for a moment, returning with Madam Pomfrey, the girl unconsciously let out a gasp.

"Oh, he's injured!"

Her friend shifted uncomfortably beside her on the bed. "Or they're discussing Dumbledore's condition?"

She flashed him a pained smile for the surprising attempt at reason, but the clenching of her gut screamed that her first instinct was accurate. Suddenly, she felt extremely guilty for having ignored him so blatantly over the past few days. _ Just let him be alright. Please. _

Her fingertips dug into her own thighs as the Aurors exited the office, leaving Severus with Minerva and Poppy. Memories of the night in which Severus had nearly died flashed through her consciousness.

**'Granger.'**

The sudden sound of his voice startled her, and Harry looked to her quizzically when she physically flinched. Shrugging her shoulders in response, she fixed her gaze on the parchment. _'Severus? Are you alright?'_

'**Yes, I'm fine.'**

Her eyes narrowed considerably. _'Then why is Madam Pomfrey hovering over you?'_

**'What? How would you… You're using Potter's map.'**

She winced at the frustration in his tone. _'Yes. Now are you really alright?'_

There was a slight pause before he replied**. 'Nothing serious, I assure you. Already mended.'**

Hermione let loose a relieved sigh and stretched out her legs. _'And Dumbledore?'_

**'Stable, for now. Only time will reveal anything further.'**

_'So, all we can do is wait?' _The young witch bit down on her lip.

**'Yes. And if there is anything you do not wish the Aurors to find, I would advise making use of the sheath I gave you.'**

_'They're going to search our rooms?'_ She grimaced at the stupidity of the thought and shook her head. _'Of course they are.'_

**'They'll start in Slytherin, but they shall at least _pretend_ to search the other Houses.'**

_'Right.'_ She nodded, rubbing her face_. 'I will do so tonight.'_

**'Good.'**

_'Severus?'_

**'Yes?'**

_'I'm… I'm sorry about what I said the other night. You were right that I'm not prepared, but I was upset and embarrassed and I reacted poorly—'_

'**Grang—Hermione, don't. I was out of line, and you were well within your rights. It was wrong of me to expect you to accomplish in six months what's taken me two decades. You have made exceptional progress, and I should not have belittled that.'**

The corners of her lips turned upward at the admission. After glancing at Harry who was still staring at the map, her expression sobered quickly. Though she was grateful for the admission, the amount of truth that had been in his criticisms was overwhelming.

**'Hermione… you shouldn't dwell on what I said. You should… should… get some rest, and –'**

_'Severus, are you alright?'_

**'Poppy… damn sleeping draught.'**

The witch stifled a small snort. _'Good night, then. I'm glad you're back.'_

When she heard no response, Hermione inhaled deeply and looked at the small clock on the bedside table. Upon realizing that it was nearly midnight, she groaned and slipped off the side of the bed.

"Hermione?"

"It's late, Harry," she explained, turning to look over her shoulder. "I'm sure that Dumbledore is receiving the best care. All we can do is wait and hope for him to recover. I think I'm going to turn in for the night, but if you aren't going to sleep, you should at least eat something. There's probably something still left downstairs."

"Okay," the boy nodded. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night," she replied. "I'll see you in a few hours."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Snape grit his teeth as he stood a few feet inside the doorway of the Prefects' Room in the Slytherin boys' dormitory. The inhabitants of the room – Stengins, Malfoy, and Burke – were standing nearby, looking on with varying expressions of anger, horror, and shock as two male Aurors all but cheerily tore apart their residence.

"Shall we speed things along, Mugs?" the taller man asked.

His colleague snorted and tossed down a few books. "Might as well, Ulton; otherwise, it'll take us all afternoon just to do this one."

"Aye," Ulton agreed, lifting up Burke's trunk and dumping the contents out all over the floor.

Severus crossed his arms, knowing there was little he could do without making the situation worse. He flicked his gaze briefly to his fifth year prefect, noticing that the boy appeared to be holding back tears, before returning his burning glare to the backside of the man carelessly rifling through the pile of belongings. The older children would likely keep relatively composed during the searches, but he was growing increasingly concerned about how the younger students would react to the intrusion into their personal spaces. He was not looking forward to making sure that two dozen sniffling children were able to sleep that night.

When the stockier Auror – Muggins – finally finished with Stengins's desk and made his way toward Malfoy's end of the room, the pureblood heir noticeably flinched. Draco shifted as the man picked up his trunk, and his Head of House quickly grabbed hold of his arm to keep him in place.

"Oh-ho-ho!" Ulton jeered, catching sight of the motion. "Better look twice as hard there, Mugsie! That's Malfoy paraphernalia you're pawin' through!"

"Better pull up the floorboards and tear apart the mattress, then," Muggins replied with a chuckle. "I'm sure he's picked up his father's slippery habits."

Snape grimaced as the investigator dumped out Malfoy's belongings with even less regard than had been shown to the other two occupants of the room. The sound of glass shattering did not appear to phase the Aurors in the least.

"Hey –" Draco's voice fell silent when the professor squeezed his shoulder in warning. Though he scowled up at his mentor, he remained quiet for several minutes while watching the men's progression. His jaw twitched when the two drawers of his desk were emptied in a similar fashion to his trunk, but his ire rose immeasurably when Ulton pulled the stash of letters from beneath his mattress.

"We'll be taking these for evidence," the Auror stated, producing a sack for holding them.

"You have no right to –"

"Oh, I think you'll find we have plenty of right," Ulton sneered, tucking the bag into his robes. "You've been corresponding with You-Know-Who's sympathizers, which gives us more than enough cause."

The blonde was obviously seething as the Aurors slowly finished tearing through his things. Instead of leaving, however, the pair approached the three boys.

"Hand over your robes, each of you," Muggins commanded.

"Pardon?" Severus snapped, clearing his throat and stepping in front of his students. "I believe you were given permission to search the dormitories, not the students."

"They're _in_ the dormitory, aren't they? I say that's fair game."

"I beg to differ," the Slytherin Head argued coldly. "_You_ are able to _ransack_ these rooms because they belong to the school, and Professor McGonagall has begrudgingly allowed you to do so. In order to ransack children, however, you have to receive _consent_ from their parents or guardians."

Ulton appeared uncertain as he glanced down at his shorter companion, but Muggins merely tilted his head. "I suppose that's true, Professor… for the two of them. That one, however, will do as we say or find himself taken into custody for suspicion of treachery."

"He is an underaged wizard –"

"Whose parents have recently been declared fugitives from justice," the Auror interrupted. "That alone could give us the right to bring him in for questioning."

Snape swallowed in distaste before turning to face his student. "Mr. Malfoy…"

Draco took in a shuddering breath as he stepped forward and began unfastening the clasp of his school robes. Before he could hand them over, they were snatched out of his grasp along with his wand. The boy opened his mouth in protest, but thought better of it. Instead, he cast a fearful glance up at his professor.

"What do we have here?" Muggins questioned, pulling out a wrinkled envelope. He passed it to his colleague, who immediately yanked out the parchment it contained.

"Oh, well isn't this cute?" Ulton snickered as he began to read aloud. "My _darling_ baby boy…"

"Professor, we've finished with the – Oi! What the _hell_ are you doing?" Tonks shouted, having just stepped into the room. She stared in abject horror at the status of the room. "Muggins!"

"Just being thorough," he shrugged.

The pink-haired witch glared at him in return and then froze upon finally comprehending what the third Auror was saying. Marching forward, she pulled Draco away from them by his elbow and glared at her colleagues. "What the hell is _wrong_ with you? _Give_ me that!"

"Hey!" Ulton snapped when she snatched the letter out of his hand. "We need that for evidence!"

"Evidence of _what_, exactly?" she retorted, glancing down at the writing. "That a mother loves her son?"

"There could be something in it – hidden message or useful information."

Tonks rolled her eyes and quickly cast a number of revealing charms. When they all revealed nothing of interest, she thrust the rather crumpled letter behind her into her cousin's chest.

Undeterred by the situation, Muggins continued digging through Draco's robe, producing a few knuts, quill nibs, and a smooth, purple stone. "What's this, then?"

The witch narrowed her gaze. "It appears to be an amethyst."

"What's it do, boy?"

Stepping sideways to stand in front of the pureblood, Tonks held out her hand demandingly. "It's a rock, you idiot; not a weapon."

"Well, he's carrying it around for a reason, isn't he?"

Severus cleared his throat. "Amethysts are thought to be talismans of protection."

"Protection from what, eh?"

"Perhaps from the two of you," the woman muttered, seizing hold of the stone. Before she passed it to her younger cousin, her eyes fell on the item held in Ulton's left hand. "Why do you have his wand?"

The tall man shrugged a shoulder. "We were just taking precaution. He was getting a bit riled up."

"_I_ would be riled up, too, if this is what you did to my things!" Tonks hissed. "This is _not_ procedure!"

"Well, when did you go and join the Policy Brigade?"

Her hair flashed red as she yanked Draco's wand out of her colleague's clutches. "One more word out of either of you, and I will take this to Kingsley. You can explain to him just why Hogwarts retracted permission, because you know damn well that's what Professor McGonagall will do if you continue acting like this!"

Both men were red-faced with anger, but they said nothing as they tossed the boy's robes onto the ground and stormed out of the room. Tonks blew out a heated breath and muttered beneath her breath before turning in place. Holding out the wand and gemstone, she swallowed hesitantly. "I'm sorry for their behavior."

Sneering, Draco snatched the items out of her hands and pushed past her to see to his scattered belongings.

The witch cast an apologetic glance at Snape before he slipped out of the room to monitor her fellow Aurors, and then moved in the direction of her cousin. Kneeling down, she began to help pick up his things. As she gathered up pieces of broken glass, she chanced a look at him. "Can I ask what this was?"

"Nothing important," he mumbled, cleaning up an ink spill. "Just an extra ink well someone gave me for Christmas."

"Oh," she murmured. "I could try to put it back together if – "

"Don't bother," Malfoy snapped before gathering up the rest of the shards from the floor and tossing them in the rubbish bin. He then stood up and walked away to straighten his bed. When she moved to assist him, he fixed her with a dark glare. "I don't need your help."

"I just thought I could offer –"

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" the boy muttered mournfully.

"Okay… Sorry," Tonks whispered before brushing her hands on her robes and exiting the room.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"This feels really strange," Ginny whispered, earning a grunt of agreement from Mattie.

Hermione flicked her gaze to Professor Babbling, who gave her a sympathetic smile. Inhaling deeply, the young witch returned her attention to the rest of the room where Tonks and another female Auror were presently combing through their desks. Though she knew that there should not be anything incriminating for them to find, she could not stop her stomach from clenching in anxiety.

_What if there's something I missed?_ Fiddling with her necklace, she quickly ran through the inventory of damning evidence she had removed. Luckily, her roommates had both still remained downstairs for a few hours after she had left Harry's room two nights prior, and she had been able to tear through her own belongings without drawing suspicion. Every note she had kept from Severus or Draco, the Christmas card she never delivered to her parents, and the few books Severus had loaned her had all been stuffed into the purple, beaded bag, which she had then minimized and slipped inside the wand sheath currently wrapped around her forearm.

To ensure that the charms on the sheath worked like Snape had described, she had rolled up her sleeves the night before while sitting with Neville and Harry. While the latter was likely not to notice it at all, she knew that had the sheath been visible, Neville would have mentioned something. Since he had not, the girl was confident that it would keep her secrets well hidden. Nevertheless, she was going to be damned sure to keep her sleeves pulled down as far as possible. Likewise, she was keeping her wand in sight – in her jeans pocket – in case anyone would question where it was.

"You okay, Hermione?"

The brunette took in a deep breath and nodded at her friend. "Yeah. I'm just worried about what's happening."

"Yeah, I know," Ginny mumbled. "I keep thinking that it feels like it's just going to get worse."

"Yeah, no kidding."

"Wotcher, girlies," Tonks greeted cheerfully as her colleague left the room with Professor Babbling following closely behind her. "All done in here, so the three of you are free to roam… well, this room and the common room. Not a great deal of freedom, I guess."

"No, not really," Mathina sighed as she gracefully flopped onto her bed.

"How much longer do you think we'll be stuck in here?" Ginny asked.

The older witch smirked. "Getting a bit stir crazy, are ya?"

"Locked in a tower with your ex and the boy he claimed was obsessed with you?" the redhead returned. "Oh, you have _no_ idea."

"E gads," Tonks snickered, catching Hermione's eye before shrugging. "Well, if we're fortunate, we'll be through all of the dormitories by tomorrow. I should expect the confinement will be lifted within a few days, at the latest. Sorry, I can't offer you anything more concrete."

"It's okay." Hermione let go of the necklace pendant and shifted her weight. "Any word on how Professor Dumbledore is? Is he going to be alright?"

The Auror drew in an uncomfortable breath and then shook her head. "I really can't answer that one. Not because I don't trust you, of course, but because I actually don't know anything one way or the other."

"Right. Thanks anyway."

"No problem," Tonks replied before eyeing the purple stone lying atop the girl's jumper. "Lovely necklace, that."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and unconsciously touched the amethyst again. "Oh, erm, thanks."

"It's beautiful," the woman smiled brightly. "Where'd you get it?"

"I don't know, actually. It was a gift."

"A gift?"

"Yes," the curly haired witch answered, "from a friend."

"Ah. I like it," Tonks stated as she began drifting toward the door. "Well, I best be back to work. Have a good afternoon, ladies."

The two girls returned words of farewell while Mattie gave a muffled grunt before pulling a pillow over her head. Once the Auror was out of sight and the door had clicked shut behind her, Ginny raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her friend. "What was that about?"

Hermione frowned and shook her head as she recalled the expression that had been on the woman's face. "I honestly have no idea."

"So who is –"

"I'm kind of hungry again," the witch interrupted. "What about you, Gin? Want to see if there's still something of lunch left downstairs?"

Pausing briefly to consider the question, Ginny then shook her head. "No, thanks. _He's_ probably down there again."

"You can't keep avoiding Dean," her friend chastised. "You're in the same House; you're on the same Quidditch team; you're both prefects; and he's not graduating for another year and a half."

"I know that!" the younger girl snapped. "I just… I've spent two days in the same common room as him, and I'd just like some time away from him… where he can't bother me."

"He's bothering you?"

Ginny sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He wants to… to get back together, but I… I can't agree to that unless I know that he respects my friendships."

Hermione took in a deep breath and ducked her head. "You know he really does care for you, right?"

"I know."

"And you really care for him, yes?"

"Yes!" she whined.

"Then why couldn't you just –"

"Because you couldn't possibly understand it, Mione!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air and stomping quickly to her bed.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," Hermione muttered under her breath.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Well," Minerva sighed as she sank into the chair at the head of the staffroom table, "the Aurors have informed me that they have finished searching the majority of the castle. While they will still be actively engaged within the castle and will continue enforcing the restrictions on the post, they have agreed that the students be allowed to leave their dormitories."

An audible murmur of satisfaction rippled across the gathered Hogwarts faculty.

"I have asked the house-elves to serve today's luncheon in the common rooms as they have been doing, but tonight's meal will be held per normal procedure in the Great Hall," the acting-Headmistress continued. "I will make the announcement this afternoon."

Vector cleared her throat. "Are we resuming classes, then?"

"I think it best, yes," the elder woman replied. "They shall resume on Monday. Transfiguration, of course, will continue to be postponed until either Albus recovers or a suitable replacement is found.

"Speaking of Albus," Flitwick commented. "How is he this morning?"

As nearly every pair of eyes stared expectantly at her, McGonagall took in a deep breath. "Still stable. I wish that I had something more to tell you, but Poppy has explained that time really is his best hope right now. Every day that passes with no decline makes it more likely that he will eventually recover. Poppy is monitoring him now, and has been spending most of her time with him. Severus, Remus, and myself have been stepping in whenever she needs to be relieved."

The members of staff sat quietly for several minutes with somber expressions on their face. Finally Rolanda Hooch leaned forward against the table. "So, did they find anything?"

"With the extensive assortment of Weasley products, inappropriate reading material, and bottles of booze the Aurors turned up, we'll have enough detentions to last us the rest of the term," Severus replied casually.

After snickers broke out amongst the staff, Sinistra tilted her head and asked, "So they haven't actually discovered anything useful?"

Minerva shook her head and rubbed her face. "Not that they've said. I've been informed that they've confiscated some correspondence, but it is not apparent as to whether or not the letters contain any actual value."

"Likely not," Sprout mumbled sadly.

"I tend to agree, Pomona," the Gryffindor Head replied. "Now, is there anything else we need to discuss?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Severus groaned as he pressed his fingers into his temple in an attempt to dull the throbbing in his head. He had scarcely managed any real sleep in nearly a week; not since Poppy had drugged him with the sleeping draught had he slept more than a few hours at a time. He had known that a sleeping potion was an option, but given the Dark Lord's current level of excitement and impatience, he did not want to risk being summoned while under its effects.

On top of that, he had just completed a full day of teaching. The students were worse than usual considering that they had not set foot in a classroom in the past five days, and could not have been bothered to do any actual coursework during their imprisonment in their dormitories.

"Ugh, fucking hell," the man whispered as he moved to rest his head on the desk. He had already contacted Hermione earlier that day to cancel their usual Monday night lesson since the Aurors were still lurking about looking for anything that could be considered suspicious. Though she had initially protested that they could just explain about her private defense lessons, he finally managed to convince her that it was best to spend the night elsewise. He had suggested that she use the time to train with Potter in the Room of Requirement since they both desperately needed the practice.

Given that Hermione was occupied, and he did not have any pressing grading concerns, Snape thought perhaps he could catch up on some much needed rest. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes and worked to clear his mind of any nagging thoughts. He was just about to nod off when there came a knock on his door.

The Slytherin Head straightened immediately and glanced up at the clock to see that it was shortly after seven. Hoping that it was not Granger standing on the other side of the door after he had told her not to risk it, he cleared his throat. "Enter."

Pink locks quickly appeared in his line of vision, and the wizard relaxed slightly. He waited until the door had been closed again before purring, "Nymphadora."

Though the tips of her hair momentarily darkened, he was disappointed when the witch did not rise to the bait as she usually did.

"Look, Professor," she began, "I know you're upset about the searches, and I completely understand. They were entirely out of line with how they handled Slytherin House, and I have made Kingsley fully aware of their misbehavior."

"Have you now?" Severus murmured, carefully covering his surprise. "And can your reputation with the Aurory survive coming to the defense of the snakes' den?"

Tonks snorted loudly. "Really, Professor? My reputation? I'm a _female_ Auror, who has never been in a serious relationship, who is the daughter of a Muggle-born, who is a Metamorphagus, and who trips over the office doorstep at least twice a week and yet has been promoted faster than most of her colleagues. Oh, and my name is _Nymph_adora. Believe me, there's hardly any truth to my reputation with the Aurory to begin with, and I can certainly withstand any new rumors that may rear their ugly heads. More than likely, they'll just throw your name onto the list of individuals I have shagged or am currently shagging. They really aren't that creative."

"I see," he replied, shifting uncomfortably.

"Anyway, it was the right thing to do," she shrugged. "I haven't had the most positive of experiences with members of your House, but even so… frankly, I wanted to shove sharp objects up certain arseholes' arseholes."

Cracking a smirk, the Slytherin leaned against the back of his chair. "So, you came all the way down here to offer an apology and violent imagery?"

"Partially, yeah," the witch replied. "And while we're on the subject of apologies and violent imagery, I also wanted to apologize on behalf of the Order."

His eyebrows rose despite his best efforts at appearing impassive, and he quickly frowned. "I doubt that they would appreciate you doing so any more than the Aurory would."

With a sigh, Tonks shifted on her feet. "Yeah, well, they weren't there Wednesday night."

The wizard stiffened suddenly. "I don't need your pity, Miss Tonks."

"It isn't pity!" she argued, raising her gaze to meet his face. "Guilt, shock, concern, shame, admiration – yes, but not _pity_. What you've done, Professor, is –"

"Only what has needed to be done."

The Auror flinched at his tone, but rolled her eyes a moment later. "Is it Slytherin-code or something not to accept apologies or help?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and folded his arms to his chest. "In our experience, either typically comes with a steep price attached."

Her cheeks flushed a shade similar her hair as she mumbled, "Oh."

A tense silence enveloped them for a moment until she finally cleared her throat and slipped her hand into the deep pocket of her robes. "Well, I, erm, also wanted to give these to you. They were all thoroughly examined, of course, but I made sure that nothing untoward happened to them. I thought Draco might prefer you delivering them rather than me. I would ask you to apologize to him again for me, but since it would essentially be a waste of breath, I won't bother."

The man eyed her with surprise as he reached forward to accept the stack of letters bound neatly with twine. "I will see that Mr. Malfoy receives these… as well as your continued apologies."

A partial smile appeared on her face. "Thanks."

He gave a single nod and then tilted his head. "Was there something else you needed?"

"Well…" Tonks took in a deep breath. "About my cousin… exactly how much trouble is he in?"

Snape swallowed slowly and furled his brow as he considered her question.

"Look, I know it's your job and all to protect information and essentially play both sides," she stammered quickly, "but I read that letter he's been carrying around in his robes. The letter from his mum… where she told him how much she loved him, and that he was her sole priority, and that she would do everything she could to best protect him. With the amethyst, and… and with him and Hermione… I just know that he's in some sort of serious trouble."

Several seconds passed before he deemed it safe enough to respond. "You could say that."

The Auror nodded slowly and rubbed the back of her neck. "And Hermione… he really cares for her?"

"So it would seem," he ground out.

"Right," she murmured. "I saw the necklace he gave her – amethyst with Algiz carved into it. A protective stone with a protective rune? I mean, you give something like that to someone you care what happens to."

Lifting one eyebrow, Severus leaned one elbow on an armrest. "Miss Granger actually told you that he gave her the necklace?"

"Oh, no… of course not," the woman shook her head. "It was just the way she vaguely referenced receiving it from a friend – I could tell it was a little deeper than that."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I know you probably can't tell me anything about his situation, but if there's something he needs…" Tonks trailed off momentarily before starting again. "Mum may have been shunned by her sisters, but he's still family, in my mind, so if there's anything I can do to be of assistance…"

The spy stared at her in shock while she hesitantly extended the offer. Gathering his wits, he rubbed his temples and exhaled slowly. "I will keep that in mind, Miss Tonks."

"Thank you," she smiled. Moving toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder. "Good night, Professor."

As he made an acknowledging grunt, the fire in his office fireplace suddenly flashed green.

"Severus!" McGonagall's bobbing head shouted, catching both Order members' attentions.

Concerned by her tone, the wizard immediately pushed out of his seat. "Yes, Minerva?"

"Severus! Come quickly!" she gasped. "It's Albus! He's seizing!"


	67. Temporary Victories

**A/N: Thank you for all of the continued love for this story! I had a very busy holiday season with my family, and could not write near as much as I would have liked. However, I kept chipping away at it and finally have something new for you to read! It took quite an unexpected turn for me at the end of this chapter, but then again, that's what has happened all along. I hope you will enjoy it and keep leaving reviews. **

**Hearing from you all makes me so excited, so your comments - in combination with the fact that my college football team just won the national championship for the fourth year in a row - will make a very lovely early birthday present to me!**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>**

**Chapter 67**

Severus did not notice whether or not Tonks stumbled through the Floo after him, and he was on Minerva's heels within seconds as they raced up the staircase to the Headmaster's private quarters. Upon bursting into the room, he momentarily froze at the sight of Poppy stabilizing Dumbledore's still-thrashing body.

"Uff," Tonks grunted, colliding into his backside when he unexpectedly came to a standstill.

He gave no indication of having felt the impact, but slowly stepped closer to the bed when the old wizard's body again became still. His eyes raked over the Headmaster, noting the beads of sweat lining the pale, nearly translucent skin of his forehead.

"Severus," McGonagall whispered, looking up to him. "He's been stable for so long. I thought… I thought he would have improved."

Not trusting his voice, the Slytherin gave an uncertain nod and pinched the bridge of his nose. _ I should never have listened to him. It wasn't enough to dilute the poison; his body couldn't handle it. The curse weakened him too much, and now I've killed him. I've killed the Head of the Order on the off chance that the Dark Lord would spare Draco. I let Albus convince me to trade his life for that of a useless child._

"Severus, are you alright?"

_I've killed a man, Minerva. I'm just fucking peachy_. Blinking back the sting of tears, he took in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. "I'm not the one whom you should –"

"Severus?"

Four pairs of eyes widened at the weak, gravelly voice and then snapped to the bed.

"Albus?" McGonagall gasped.

Dumbledore's lips slowly quirked into a hint of a smile as his eyelids rose halfway. "Minerva… hello."

"H-hello," she replied with a teary chuckle. "How are you… how are you feeling?"

"Bit peaky, actually."

Poppy snorted loudly as she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "That ought to be putting it mildly."

_He's alive. Holy buggering shite!_ Snape stared at the scene before him in shock and swallowed nervously when he realized that his mouth had been hanging open for a few seconds.

"Wotcher, Headmaster!" Tonks greeted loudly, coming to stand at Minerva's other side. "It's good to see you back again."

Dumbledore choked slightly on his chuckle but managed a wink in her direction. "It's nice to see you again as well. I suppose I ought to thank you, Poppy, for –"

"Oh, no," the Healer interrupted as she began casting diagnostic scans. "I hardly did anything difficult. Severus is the one you ought to thank. If it hadn't been for his actions and quick thinking, we would not be having this conversation."

A grin spread across the old man's face as he rolled his head back to look past Minerva's shoulder. "Of that… I've no doubt."

Severus shifted in discomfort when McGonagall grabbed hold of his elbow and tugged him closer to the bed. Meeting the clear blue gaze of his employer, he cleared his throat. "Albus… welcome back."

"Severus," he murmured quietly. "Thank you. I am… exceptionally grateful to you. I am confident… that I can again depend on your assistance… if necessary."

"Of course," the tall wizard nodded.

"Never doubted you."

The Slytherin exhaled slowly and lowered his dark eyes.

"What does…" Dumbledore cleared his throat when his voice became garbled, and then started again. "What does Riddle have to say?"

"Albus," Minerva muttered while the mediwitch audibly groaned, "you are in no condition to –"

"Severus?" the elder man interrupted pointedly.

After casting a sheepish glance to the woman beside him, Snape began to answer. "He was… quite elated to hear of your condition and is impatiently waiting for report of your demise."

"I see." The Headmaster shifted slightly. "I think he'll be… rather disappointed, wouldn't you say?"

"Quite."

"And you, Severus?"

The Potions Master flicked his eyes to the three witches around him as he shifted uncertainly. "Will _I_ be disappointed?"

"Will you be safe?"

"Ah," he mumbled, tugging at the cuffs of his sleeves. "Relatively speaking, I suspect. Bellatrix was eager to claim as much responsibility as possible, so I believe she ought to receive the brunt of his attention."

There was a bit of twinkle to the man's blue eyes. "Managed that, did you?"

Severus smirked. "The Dark Lord is currently under the impression that not only did I not provide you aid, but that I actively delayed you receiving it as well. Darling Bella would rather kiss a Dementor than have to share any credit with me."

"I could scrounge up a couple for her," Tonks added quietly.

"A generous offer, dear," Madam Pomfrey snorted before fixing her patient with a demanding stare. "But I think it best if we were to cut the Order business short tonight. You, Albus, need to rest if you are to continue disappointing You-Know-Who."

"Yes, Poppy," the old wizard smiled wearily. "I do believe you are right."

"Now, there's a first," the matron nurse muttered, sharing an amused glance with Minerva. "I think, perhaps, the conversation could be moved elsewhere."

"Yes, of course," McGonagall nodded. She grinned down at the invalid and patted his hand gently. "I'm glad to have you back, Albus. Take care of yourself now, and I will gladly hand the reins back to you when Poppy believes you're up to holding them."

"Thank you, Minerva," Dumbledore sighed, closing his eyes. "I am certain it shall only be a day or two… "

"It certainly shall not," the Healer argued. "I will knock you back out if I have to."

**XxxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Ouch!" Harry shouted, cradling his hand against his chest after his wand viciously launched across the Room of Requirement. "Jeez, what was that? That was no standard _Expelliarmus_."

Hermione grinned mischievously as she shook her head. "A variant – _Expelliarmus Magnum_."

"Never heard of that one," he mumbled. "Seriously, I think you popped every knuckle in my hand at once."

"Are you alright?"

The boy nodded his head. "Yeah… yeah, fine."

"Okay," she replied, before explaining, "It's not often used, since it's most effective as a nonverbal. Not as many wizards are as adept at wordless magic as they are verbal, so it isn't that popular."

"It bloody hurt!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hence the need for you to shield against it."

Her friend grunted as he summoned his wand back to him. "Did you get that out of a book, or did Snape teach you it?"

"Both, actually," she replied. "I found it in a book that _Professor_ Snape loaned me, and he's made me practice it repeatedly."

"Ah," Harry said. "Good book, then?"

"Obviously."

The boy snorted and looked down at his wand. "Do you think I could look at it sometime?"

"I don't see why not," Hermione shrugged. "I'll check with him, though, since it _is_ his book."

"Right," he sighed before adopting a dueling stance. "Ready?"

The witch did not bother to reply, but immediately volleyed a moderate stinging hex at him and was relieved to see him shield the entirety of it. Several minutes passed as they exchanged hexes and jinxes, building up a sweat and momentarily losing track of why they needed to sharpen their skills in the first place.

**'Granger.'**

Hermione startled at the voice inside her head, and the spell she fired well above Harry's head as a result.

**'Dumbledore is alive. He awoke from his coma this evening.'**

_'Really?'_ Her eyes brightened at the news. _'That's phenomenal! I can't –'_

Her thoughts died away as a burning sensation exploded in her chest, and she slammed hard against the ground. "Fuck."

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, rushing to her side.

**'Hermione!'**

"Damn it," she wheezed.

**'Are you alright?'**

Green eyes suddenly appeared above her. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"M'okay," she groaned before trying to pull herself onto her bottom.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," the boy exclaimed. "I thought you would shield it better."

**'I apologize, Granger. I should have taken more care to not distract you.'**

The witch snorted under her breath. "I shouldn't have let myself get distracted. It's not your fault. Besides, I've had far worse than this."

**'Are you certain that you are alright?'**

Harry held out his hand to her. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she laughed, shaking her head at the proffered hand and staggering to her feet. _'Honestly, it's like the two of you share a brain.'_

**'If you do not retract that statement, Madam, I may have to _Avada_ myself.'**

Hermione bit down on her lip to keep from laughing. _'Well, if you must, you must.'_

**'You are cruel. I will allow you to return to your practice. Moody and Shacklebolt have just arrived. We will not announce Dumbledore's improved condition until we have discussed it, so I ask that you keep this information to yourself.'**

_'Of course. Thank you for telling me.'_

"Do you want to call it a night?"

The girl cleared her throat and then smiled at her friend. Though her chest still stung a bit from the hex, she was feeling better than she had in days. "Not unless you've run out of steam."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Clutching her mediwitch's handbook to her chest, Hermione did everything she could to keep from smiling as she descended into the dungeons. It had been incredibly difficult to not share anything regarding Dumbledore's recovery with Harry the night before, and she was practically bursting at the seams with the need to talk to someone about it. As Professor McGonagall was still assuming the role of the Headmaster, Transfiguration classes were still cancelled, leaving her with the ability to visit Snape during his half hour break.

She had seen him in class and periodically at meals, of course, but she really had not spoken to him in person in over a week. Knowing that the Aurors were still keeping watch over the school, which was why he had cancelled on their usual Monday night session, she made sure to arm herself with an entirely plausible excuse for visiting should she be questioned.

Taking in a deep breath, the young witch stopped at the familiar wooden door of his office and gave a confident knock. Upon receiving the standard command to enter, she pushed open the door.

"Hello, Professor," she greeted.

Severus glanced up at her in mild concern. "Miss Granger?"

"I hope I'm not interrupting your work, but I have a question about brewing. You see, I have to replenish some of the infirmary stock, and I don't want to make a mistake."

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, he waved her forward. "Very well. I can spare a few minutes."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione smiled as she quickly closed the door.

He leaned back in his chair as she approached his desk. "What are you needing to brew?"

"Fever-reducer, Pepper-Up, and cough suppressors, more than likely," she shrugged, depositing her book and bag on the old, wooden chair. "Of course, there may be others, but I don't do inventory until Thursday morning. I brew on Saturdays… unless of course, we go through the stock faster than expected."

The wizard snorted and rubbed his temple. "This was all a ruse, then?"

"In case an Auror was listening nearby," she replied with a nod.

"I see. And what, may I ask, are you actually doing here?"

Hermione hesitantly rounded the end of his desk and perched beside him. "I just wanted to see how you were holding up."

Snape raised his eyebrows and then shook his head. "Still in one piece."

"And Dumbledore?" she questioned. "I mean, you said he was conscious, but how is he?"

"Cognizant," he mumbled. "Still incredibly weak, but Poppy has him on very strict bedrest. He spoke with us for a few minutes last night, but, as far as I know, has been asleep since then. We'll be starting a new potion regimen this evening, so hopefully the Headmaster will be quite a bit stronger by week's end. We've agreed that we will not release any report of his change in condition until he is well enough to do it himself. It isn't worth the risk of drawing further attention from the Dark Lord until he is back on his feet."

The witch nodded in understanding and then quickly threw her arms about his neck. "Oh, I _knew_ he would be alright!"

With a sigh, Severus glared at the ceiling. "He isn't _alright_."

"No," she agreed, pulling back enough to look at the man. "But he _isn't_ dead, which means that the poison _didn't_ kill him, which means that _you_ are brilliant."

He gave her a trying look. "Granger."

The girl shook her head. "I _know_ it isn't over, but can't we celebrate the smaller victories anyway?"

The professor turned his attention back to the essays on his desk. "I'll be sure to send the house-elves out for champagne and caviar."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I just meant that you should be proud of yourself."

When he all but ignored her statement, she gently touched his cheek. "You need sleep, Severus."

He snorted under his breath. "Well, how unfortunate that I happen to have an afternoon full of classes."

"After supper, I meant," she chided. "Though, I think nearly everyone would be perfectly amenable to you skiving off today."

"And reward the urchins with another day off? I think not."

"Do what you will, I suppose," the witch smirked. "But you really must get some sleep… and if you can't manage it on your own –"

"You expect to attempt sneaking into bed with me while the Aurors are on high alert?" he scoffed. "You do realize that they _are_ walking the halls at night, yes?"

Hermione folded her arms. "I was _going_ to suggest that _Crookshanks_ could keep you company. He's quite good at lulling people to sleep."

"Oh," he murmured. "My mistake."

The witch donned a mischievous grin and leaned forward, slipping her arms about his neck once more. "Unless you'd _prefer_ your suggestion, of course. I could always come up with a way to avoid the Aurors."

_Of course, I'd bloody prefer it_. He groaned loudly. "Granger –"

Before he could finish his comment, she quickly pressed her lips against his. After a few seconds, she pulled away and stood up from the desk. "I'll see you in a few hours, then."

Severus silently watched as she picked up her belongings and reopened his office door. With one last smirk over her shoulder, she was gone, and he was left alone with the tingling of his lips to remind him of her kiss. At the sound of a chime, he finally tore his eyes away from the door and glanced at the clock. Realizing that he was due to teach in ten minutes, he let out a deep sigh and wiped a hand over his face.

_After what I said to her last week, she's proud of me? Not just proud, but affectionate_. Pinching his lips into a thin line, he could not help but think of the warmth of her body and the scent of her hair as she hugged him. When he realized that his lips were no longer the only tingling part of his anatomy, he immediately pushed out of his chair. _Fuck! Aurors, remember. Mad-Eye Moody installed in the guest wing… Keep yourself in check, you idiot. You cannot force her to sneak out of her tower in the middle of the night._

The image of the grizzled ex-Auror was more than enough to quell his rising libido, and furthermore put a scowl on his face as he went to open the classroom for the fourth years.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As the lines of text began to blur before him, Severus stifled a yawn and blinked several times. He knew Hermione and Minerva were right to tell him to rest, but he hardly had the time at present. He had taught up until the supper hour, during which he had needed to help Poppy prepare the series of strengthening draughts to be used throughout the next week. Following that, he had spent a few hours in and out of the Pensieve with Draco as they worked on the boy's ability to create false memories.

When the boy had finally left to complete his nightly rounds, Snape had grabbed a stack of essays and immediately made for the Headmaster's quarters to relieve Kingsley from guard duty. Since then, he had been sitting at Dumbeldore's bedside, slicing through student work and fighting the rapidly increasing desire to crawl onto the sofa at the foot of the bed and fall asleep.

"No way in Hades will I sleep anywhere near the Headmaster's bed," he growled under his breath.

"You say that now," a gravelly voice chuckled. "Another night, perhaps."

Severus turned to look at the bed's occupant who was shockingly awake. "I think not."

"We shall see," Albus smirked before adjusting himself. "Regardless of the location, Severus… you do look as though you could do with some rest. One cannot neglect to care for one's self."

"And just which of my duties shall I be shirking in order to find time to do so?"

The Headmaster sighed deeply. "You are the one who volunteered to shoulder so much responsibility. You must find the balance for yourself."

"Whatever shall I do without your nuggets of wisdom?" the spy grumbled, gathering up all of the loose parchments in his lap. After tidying them into a neat pile at his feet, he rose from the chair and reached for two vials from the night stand. "Since you're awake, you might as well take your next round of doses."

"Tell me, Severus," the elder murmured after swallowing the potions, "did you ever consider Healing as a profession?"

"Oh, do be serious, Albus." He rolled his eyes before banishing the empty glassware back to the infirmary. "You know as well as I do that I have never considered my profession. The Dark Lord wanted me to brew, so I became a Potions Master. You wanted me here, so I became a teacher. You both wanted me to spy, so I became an Occlumens. I scarcely have time enough to sleep; I certainly don't have time to entertain such folly as considering what I actually _want_ to do."

"I suppose that must be true," Dumbledore stated quietly. "Nevertheless, should you ever find the time to consider it, I think you have a certain knack for it. Granted, your bedside manner could use a bit of sprucing up."

"Well, you'll hardly be in any position to write me a recommendation letter when the time comes."

The Headmaster chuckled softly while watching the other man reclaim the armchair and then cleared his throat. "What else have I missed? Poppy has refused to comment."

"Because she knows you'll push yourself too hard," Severus replied. _Because you're a fucking control freak who has to have his finger in every fucking pie he encounters._

"You are undoubtedly correct."

_Of course I fucking am_. The Slytherin grunted before answering the question. "There's a leak in the Aurory. The Dark Lord knew that the reserve Aurors had been called as soon as they had been. He did not know why until he summoned me several hours later, which could indicate an administrative mole instead of one of the actual reserve members. Kingsley, Moody, and Miss Tonks are attempting to locate and eventually plug the leak."

Dumbledore frowned. "I did caution them as to the probability of that situation."

"Yes, I thought it would be a likely installment," the younger man agreed. "Until now, I could never discern any evidence to indicate it."

"Yes," the elder wizard nodded. "And what has happened here?"

A few minutes passed while the spy relayed the details regarding the events that had transpired while the Headmaster was comatose. When he had finished, Dumbledore pursed his lips together and digested the information. "All of that occurred while I was absent?"

"You were out for _five_ days," Snape argued. "You do realize that, don't you?"

"That long, eh? How remarkably unfortunate. I thought perhaps a day or two."

The Potions Master sighed and rested his elbows on his knees. "The Dark Lord's curse has weakened you to a greater extent than I think you recognize. Though I applied a bezoar within minutes of your symptoms appearing, and Poppy began treatment shortly thereafter, you were completely nonresponsive for just over five days. It took a bloody seizure to pull you out of it."

Albus bore a grave expression on his face as he listened. After a moment, he blew out a quick breath and folded his hands over his stomach. "Well, that certainly gives a new perspective to things."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Oh, Merlin! That's fantastic!"

With an irritated sigh, Severus rolled his eyes as he listened to the echoes of the young witch's attempts to flirt with the werewolf for several minutes. When he could take it no longer, he ceased pretending to survey the blustery snow through the window and moved swiftly down the corridor. As he came upon the pair, he cleared his throat to catch their attention.

"Wotcher, Professor."

"Severus?"

The Slytherin tilted his head slightly. "Miss Tonks, are you quite occupied this evening?"

"Erm, no," she replied, narrowing her eyes. "Not really. Well, not until nine, at least. I'm scheduled for rounds after that."

"I see. I wonder, then, if I could borrow an hour or so of your time," he smirked, fully enjoying the hard look he was receiving from Lupin.

"Erm, sure," Tonks mumbled. "I suppose so. What do you need, Professor?"

"I've been providing Miss Granger with private defense lessons," he explained, "and I thought, perhaps, you might be willing to lend a bit of your expertise. Somehow you've managed to keep yourself in one piece for the past five years."

The Auror snorted under her breath at his almost incredulous tone, and then smiled. "So you've been giving her lessons? That's rather good of you, sir. I would be happy to help Hermione with defense training. Lead on!"

Noticing that the wolf had relaxed upon hearing that the request only had to do with the girl's lessons, Severus gently touched Tonks's shoulder as she passed him, and then winked at his colleague. Satisfied with the flustered expression on the other man's face, he dropped his hand back to his side and silently escorted the Auror to the staircase.

"What was that about, hmm?" the witch asked after ascending a flight of stairs. "I doubt you've suddenly become touchy feely."

The Slytherin glanced over his shoulder to see her bemused face, and then rolled his shoulders. "He's caused me a considerable amount of consternation lately. I thought it only fair to return the favor."

"I'd wager that he causes you consternation just by appearing in your line of vision," she teased.

"I assure you, he's outdone himself this year," Snape sneered. "Just ask him what he decided to give me for my birthday. It was rather… unforgettable."

"Huh," Tonks grunted. "Well, if you're attempting to piss him off by making him jealous, I think you're wasting your time. He isn't interested."

"I've never taken you for a stupid witch," he stated bluntly. "Do not tarnish my good opinion of you now."

Her hair took on a red tint as she glared at his backside. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

_Oh, what the _fuck_ am I doing?_ As he stepped onto the seventh floor, he stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. "What it means, Miss Tonks, is that he is very much _interested_."

"Really?" she glanced back toward the staircase and then frowned. "I've invited him for drinks five times already, and he's turned me down every time."

Severus stopped several feet short of the Room of Requirement for he feared what it may provide if he walked in front of it while dispensing relationship advice. He met the woman's questioning gaze and then quirked an eyebrow. "Well, I've never taken _him_ for an intelligent wizard. Eventually, though, I'm sure he'll pull his head out of his arse."

"You think so?"

"That being said, be careful what you wish for," he intoned casually. "You shall have no sympathy from me if you tire of his snout up your rear and cannot get him to cease humping your leg."

Her mouth parted in shock as she stared at him with wide eyes. When he gave her a pointed stare and made to turn away, she exploded into laughter. After a few seconds, she wiped her eyes and shook her head. "Merlin's tits, you're far more entertaining than I thought you were."

"It was not my job to entertain you," he commented after completing his pacing. "It was my job to train you."

"That it was. And might I just say, sir, that intimidation worked well. After seven years of your class, the Aurory is a stroll in the park," she smirked, before noticing the change of appearance in the wall. "Hold on. Where the hell did that door come from?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

_Crap, crap, crap! I'm late!_ Hermione gave a muffled word of greeting as she hurried past Remus on the last flight of stairs.

"Hermione, are you alright?"

"Yes! Fine!" she shouted. "Just late!"

"Don't concern yourself too much," he mumbled. "I doubt he'll notice."

The witch paused long enough to glance over her shoulder at the greying man descending the staircase before continuing down the seventh floor corridor. _What the hell is that supposed to mean? It's Professor Snape. Of course he'll notice._

Bursting through the door, she gave a momentary word of thanks that the Room looked relatively normal. There were no overgrown forests or incredibly high ceilings this time.

"You're late."

_I knew he'd notice._ Hermione blew out a loud breath and nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I just got caught up reading about…"

She trailed off upon noticing the pink-haired witch smiling at her, and then shifted. "I got caught up reading, sir, and didn't realize the time."

"Perhaps we ought to have a discussion about that, hmm?"

The girl ducked her head. "Yes, sir. Erm, hello, Tonks."

"Hiya, Hermione."

Severus cleared his throat and gestured to the newcomer. "In the interest of expanding your dueling experiences, I have asked Miss Tonks to join us for this evening's lesson."

"You want me to duel with her?" Tonks asked, looking intrigued. "I thought perhaps you just wanted me to help with a demonstration."

"In your tenure as an Auror, which did you find more useful: demonstrations or hands on experience?" he replied.

"Fair point," she acknowledged. "How far have you progressed in these lessons? I heard Remus crowing about your improvement in defense."

Hermione blushed and glanced at the Slytherin Head, who then answered for her.

"I believe Miss Granger has surpassed a large majority of her peers. In addition to training dummies, she has had some practice dueling Lupin and myself –"

"Not full out?" Tonks interrupted, wide-eyed.

"No," he shook his head. "Lower-level hexes only, and we tempered our attacks as we saw fit. I would expect you to maintain a certain level of challenge."

"Alright. Sounds fun."

"Granger," Snape commented, turning his gaze back to his student. "Beyond gaining experience from a variety of dueling partners, I think it might behoove you to have trained with an Auror. They often approach confrontation differently than your typical Death Eater, but should not be considered any less of a threat when engaged in combat."

"Not a bad idea," Tonks mumbled. "These days, you can't trust someone just because they wield a badge."

"Indeed," he nodded. "If you have the time, perhaps you could share with her your insight regarding non-lethal detainment spells as well."

"Aye, aye, captain," she winked.

Hermione stifled a giggle as the wizard rolled his eyes, but could not quite prevent the smile that appeared on her face. It did not take much effort at all to see what he was doing. After their disastrous last lesson, he was trying to give her the skills to protect herself while still allowing time to ascertain whether someone was friend or foe.

"Just about ready there, Hermione?" Tonks asked, producing her wand from the sheath within her Auror robes.

The girl quickly slipped off her school robes and tossed them aside. Tightening her grip on her wand, she stepped closer to the center of the room and turned to face her opponent. "Ready as I can be."

A jet of purple light suddenly exploded overhead, causing Hermione to duck and throw up a nonverbal shield to protect herself from the violet sparks raining down upon her. Catching sight of the smirk on Snape's face, she again locked her gaze onto the Auror. "What was _that_?"

"Just seeing if you were paying attention," Tonks snickered. "Little more work on –"

"My reaction time," the Gryffindor sighed, purposely avoiding looking in Severus's direction. "Yeah. I know."

The two witches squared off once more, and though she managed to block or move out of the way of all of the incoming hexes, Hermione found difficulty in discerning just exactly when her opponent would strike. It had been relatively easy to read Harry, and even Remus, for that matter. Severus had been difficult in the beginning, but as she had become more comfortable with him, she had become more in tune with his actions. She was not certain whether was due to the fact that they were bonded, that they were sleeping together, that he had been the one to train her, or that she was just getting better at reading nonverbal cues. Likely, they all had influenced her improvement.

However, nothing seemed to be helping her currently. Another brilliant light flashed as she managed to block a hex just an inch from her face. Disoriented, the girl held her personal shield while she blinked her vision back into focus.

"Granger," Snape called out, "are you –"

"I'm fine!" she hissed, finally trusting herself enough to let go of her shield and toss another hex at Tonks. Several minutes passed in heated combat as she threw her frustration into her spellwork, and attempted to go on the offensive. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she advanced on the slender Auror, flinging hexes as quickly as she could.

"Oh, good _night_," Tonks exclaimed in surprise, taking a few steps backward to erect shields in time to block each of the strikes. Scrunching up her nose in concentration, she held onto her shield as it absorbed more and more energy. Moments later, she threw it forward with a loud cry of exertion.

Hermione's eyes widened in shock as the room was lit up by what appeared to be a large wall of light rapidly moving towards her. Knowing instinctively that any shield she could erect in time would not be enough to protect her, she threw herself to the ground and covered her head. Heat engulfed her entire body, and visions of flames flickered before her eyes.

_'How do you react, Granger?_' She could almost hear Snape's voice guiding her as he had when her broom was on fire. With that memory in mind, she slipped her wand out from beneath her and cast an _Augamenti_. Water flowed from the tip of her wand, but the flames did not diminish.

"_Finite Incantatem_!" she screeched to no avail. Her chest pounded with fear and adrenaline as the temperature continued to rise, and she knew it was only a matter of time until she began to roast. Curling back into a ball, she closed her eyes. _Why isn't Severus stepping in? I'm going to burn to death in front of him!_

And then the heat was gone, replaced by a refreshing, crisp chill. Becoming suddenly calm, the young witch slowly propped open her eyes and raised her head. Her movements were slower than she expected, and she felt as though she were trying to move through something like custard or molasses. Blinking at what seemed like a glacial pace, she realized that she was surrounded by a shimmering cloud.

The cloud began to disintegrate, and Hermione quickly rolled onto her bottom.

"Alright there, Hermione?" Tonks questioned.

"Y-yeah," she stammered, glancing up to see that Severus was leaning against a column as he watched her. Due to the expression of curiosity on his face, she realized that he was likely not responsible for saving her from the flames. Returning her gaze to the witch standing a few feet away, she swallowed heavily. "What the _hell_ was that?"

The woman tittered quietly and donned a smile. "Which one? The shield, or the bubble?"

"B-both."

"The shielding charm I used was _Regero_, and I'll show you how to cast it in a bit," the Auror explained, extending a hand to the girl and then pulling her to her feet. "Most shields work by glancing off or reflecting the magical energy of a curse. This one is different, in that it absorbs and transfers that energy into another form, which can be thrown back at the original caster."

"Similar to _Repercutio_?" Severus asked as he approached them.

"I knew you'd ask that," Tonks smirked with a shake of her head. "Not quite. _Repercutio_ only absorbs a single blow, magnifies, and reflects the same hex. _Regero_ allows the wielder to absorb as much energy as they can bear to hold, and then transfers it into a different form, which is very difficult to block."

"I felt like I was on fire," Hermione mumbled.

"But you weren't," the woman interjected, holding up a hand. "You only thought you were. Light and some heat were expelled, naturally, but the only fire present was in your head."

"_What_?" she exclaimed in surprise. "But… there were flames!"

"Only up here," Tonks replied, tapping her forehead. "And I ceased the spell almost immediately. You were only under for a few seconds at most."

"A few _seconds_? I felt like entire minutes had gone by."

"Again, all up here."

Snape tilted his head in surprise. "Converting a physical assault into a mental one? An exceptional premise, considering that very few individuals can fully protect themselves on that front."

"Exactly," Tonks beamed.

"And the… bubble?" Hermione asked.

"The _Pakastekupla_! Or, as I like to think of it – the Frozen Bubble charm. This is one I was planning to teach you, since it's a safe containment spell. As you may have noticed, it traps the target in a translucent bubble, essentially slowing his or her animation, giving the caster time to verify identity or whatever else might be needed to be done. What I prefer about this one, is that the bubble also repels most hexes, so in addition to preventing the target from attacking, it protects the target from possible attacks."

"One of your own creations?" Severus questioned.

"_Pakastekupla_?" Tonks clarified. "Merlin, no. I would have given it a better name than that. I learned it from a colleague who spent a few years as a Spell-Seeker in Finland. The _Regero_, though – that one's mine."

"Seriously?" Hermione gasped.

The Auror giggled at their shocked expressions. "Not just a pretty face, right? I was thinking about it after a Boggart drill, and it's taken me the last four years to put it together."

"I can see now why Filius was so complimentary," Snape murmured, crossing his arms. "How many know of it?"

"No one outside of the Order – Mad Eye, Kings, Dumbledore, and now the two of you. I wanted to play it close to the robes."

"Good. I don't want to see that spell make its way into the Dark Lord's possession."

"Definitely not on my to-do list," she agreed before smiling at the younger witch. "You're quite the duelist, Hermione. I wish I was half as adept at shielding before I started Auror Training."

"You're so hard to read, though," Hermione groaned, rubbing her neck. "You don't give any hints away before you strike."

"An artifact of being a Metamorphagus, I think," she shrugged. "I have far more control over my body than most do."

"And yet you trip over thin air without fail," Severus smirked.

"Oi!" Tonks snapped, pointing her wand in his direction. "Do you want to learn my spell or not?"

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As soon as the Auror had excused herself so that she could prepare for her night rounds, Severus silently cast a locking charm at the door.

Hermione let out a deep sigh and sank against the wall. "I don't know how she does it… I'm exhausted."

"I meant it when I said that Aurors should not be treated as any less of a threat than Death Eaters," the wizard stated, turning to face her. He paused briefly as he took in her flushed appearance and heaving chest, and then cleared his throat. "I may put you through your paces, but Auror training is from dawn to dusk, six days a week, for three years."

"Ugh, and Harry wants to do that?"

"Well, I'm sure if he disposes of the Dark Lord like he supposedly is meant to do, they'll just hand him the job regardless of whether or not he's qualified."

"When," she corrected.

Snape narrowed his eyes as he slowly walked towards her. "Pardon?"

"You said '_if_ he disposes of the Dark Lord'," she stated, pushing away from the wall. "You meant _when_, not _if_."

"Ah," he murmured. "I did not mean to imply that the Dark Lord may not fall; only that Potter may or may not be the one to actually do it. Prophecies are not always literal in their meaning."

"Oh."

"The Dark Lord _will_ fall," he emphasized, touching her cheek. "We _will_ see to it."

Hermione smiled at his words and met his eyes. "I know."

"Now, regarding your duel: what might you have done differently?" the wizard asked without stepping away from her.

She swallowed slowly, slightly unnerved by his closeness. "Beyond reacting faster?"

"You're improving on that. Miss Tonks has always been incredibly quick."

Surprised by the comment, the girl wrinkled her nose in consideration. "Not go on the offensive?"

"Mmmm," he replied. "By all means, attack, but do it _intelligently_. Conserve energy. Draw your opponent out, _unnerve_ them… _frustrate_ them… make them _lose_ their concentration… _lose_ their control. Let them wear themselves out… and then strike _hard_."

Hermione bit down on her lip and leaned into him. "Severus, what are you doing?"

With a smirk, he traced his finger down the length of her throat.

"What about… what about the Aurors?" she whispered, closing her eyes and trying to maintain coherent thought after her brain willingly supplied the information that it had already been a fortnight since their last delicious union… on the floor… of the very room in which they were standing.

"The Aurors already know that the two of us are in here together," Snape replied. "And they believe they know why."

_Right. Tonks._ The witch drew in a short breath and slipped a hand behind his head. "_This_ is why you invited her?"

"Happy accident," he murmured before finally pressing his lips against hers. As she sank into him, he slipped one arm about her waist and splayed his long fingers over her bottom. When he squeezed her buttocks a moment later, she moaned into his mouth and thrust into his pelvis.

"Uhhh, fuck, Granger," the wizard hissed, dropping his other hand from her face to her breast.

"That'd better be the plan," she giggled as she slipped her hands between them to begin unfastening his many buttons.

"I assure you it is," he retorted, kissing her again. His frock coat fell open a few seconds later, and he felt her lips quirk upwards. Breaking their liplock, he eyed her curiously. "What?"

Hermione flushed bright red and glanced away. "I was just thinking that I'll be… an expert in this before long."

"In _sex_?"

Her bright eyes snapped to his as her mouth fell open. "No! I meant in undoing your buttons. There are so bloody many!"

"Ah," he chuckled, lowering his mouth to her throat. "Close enough."

"Mmmph," she groaned ineloquently as her center began to throb. Whimpering, she ground against his thigh and fisted her hands in the sides of his frock coat. The seam of her jeans was positioned almost perfectly, but she – as well as the binding curse – wanted him, and only him, to bring her release. "Severus… Sev… please!"

Upon hearing her plea, he detached himself from her throat and guided her backwards onto the bed that had appeared a minute prior. After collapsing atop her, he magically removed their clothing. Though he would have liked to take things a bit slower and work her into more of a frenzy, he knew that their time was relatively limited. The Aurors might buy the defense lessons when Tonks sold the story, but they would likely still grow suspicious if said lesson took all night.

Severus slipped his hand between her legs to ascertain that she was ready, and then quickly slid into her warm channel. The witch gasped at the sudden intrusion, but wrapped her legs about his waist and threw her head back in pleasure. Bracing himself against the mattress on either side of her, he thrust into her at a relatively fast pace.

"Oh god," she cried, arching further into him. "Gods, yes! M-more! Sev…Sev…"

A smile broke out on the man's face, and he lowered himself a few inches in order to fondle her breast with one of his hands. Though it had never been something he considered before concerning sex partners, he found that he loved how vocal Hermione was becoming with him. It served as another reminder to him of the strong, confident, and fierce woman into whom she had matured. That fact, as well, had caused him to become somewhat aroused when watching her earlier duel.

"Sev..er…uhhhh SEVERUS!" the girl shrieked, digging her fingertips into his hair as she reached orgasm.

Grunting loudly, Snape came with her, pumping lamely a few more times as he continued to explode within her spasming walls. As he had finished, he collapsed onto his elbows and stared down at her glowing face. When her sparkling eyes met his, he could not help but kiss her again.

"So good," Hermione panted afterward, pressing her forehead against his.

The couple separated a few minutes later after having caught their breath. Wiping his face, the wizard forced himself off of the bed. Digging in the pocket of his robes, he withdrew a vial of contraceptive and handed it to her.

Sitting up, the witch took possession of the vial and quirked an eyebrow at him. "A bit presumptuous, weren't we?"

Severus snorted under his breath and shook his head. "_We_ would prefer to think of it as being prepared. Planning has all but gone out the window, it seems."

"You started it this time," she mumbled cheekily before tossing back the brew.

"So I did," he smirked. Clearing his throat a moment later, he forced himself to think of what needed to be discussed. "You were late because you were reading one of the books on the list?"

"Erm, yeah," the young woman nodded. "Sorry, it was just interesting."

"Wandlore again?"

"Mmmm-hmmm." Taking in a deep breath, she wrapped her arms around herself. "Wands form an allegiance to their wizards, but did you know that they could change their loyalty?"

"Through death or as a gift, yes, or a gradual parting of ways," Severus answered. "I used my mother's wand for most of my schooling since she could not afford to purchase me one."

Hermione grimaced at the admission and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, inheritance _was_ mentioned as the most common means of transference, but a wand can shift allegiance if its previous owner is defeated."

"Defeated?" he repeated. "By that, I would suppose you mean _murdered_."

"Well, that's how most people seemed to have interpreted it in the past," she muttered, pulling the blanket around her. "But the author claims that wand loyalties can change as a result of a duel or an unexpected disarming. In some instances, simple theft may be enough to sway it."

"Where the Dark Lord is concerned, it will not be a matter of _simple theft_," Snape replied. "And any unexpected disarming would be fatal."

The girl shivered despite being covered and stared at the foot of the bed. "Do you think, then, that he is after someone's wand? I mean, his wand and Harry's recognize each other as brothers due to their twin cores, so he likely wants to replace his. Perhaps he was interested in wandlore solely to understand why the _Priori Incantatem_ occurred and how to overcome it?"

Severus remained silent for several seconds as he contemplated the question. "I would suppose he likely started there, but given the sheer number of volumes he has been searching, I think he must have a solution in mind and is trying to accomplish it."

"What sort of solution?" she frowned. "Couldn't he just take someone else's wand? He certainly has no qualms about killing to get what he wants."

"I don't know," he sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know near enough about wandlore to comprehend the possibilities."

"Neither do I, but I'll keep reading whenever I can," Hermione stated.

"Good," he grunted. "In the meantime, I will see if I can convince the Headmaster to issue protection for Ollivander and the rest of the wandmakers. I am not certain that he acted on my last warning."

"How are you going to do that?"

Snape blew out a puff of air. "I have no idea."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Good morning, Severus!"

"Hello, Minerva." The Slytherin managed half a smile as he stepped onto the dais and claimed his seat. Tucking his napkin onto his lap, he raised an eyebrow at the man beside him who was staring intently. "Lupin. Are you planning to beg for table scraps now?"

Remus jerked slightly at the comment and focused his gaze elsewhere. "No, no. Just… just lost in thought, was all."

"How terribly unsurprising," Snape sneered while picking up his fork.

"And… erm… how was your night?" the werewolf mumbled.

Knowing full well that the man was fishing for particular information, the Potions Master tilted his head as he responded, "Rather enjoyable, actually."

"Oh? I take it you slept well?"

A devilish smirk briefly appeared on the man's face, and he cleared his throat. "Not much time spent sleeping, no."

"Oh, erm… oh," Lupin stammered before glaring at his breakfast.

"Uff!" a feminine voice sighed a moment later, causing both wizards to look up in time to see Tonks collapse into the empty seat on the other side of Severus. Rubbing a hand against her eyes, she yawned loudly before reaching for her utensils. "Mornin', Professor… Remus."

As the former dipped his head, the latter leaned forward in his seat. "Good morning, Dora. How are you?"

"Famished!" she declared, tucking into her meal. After a few minutes of awkward silence had occurred, the witch peeked at the two men to her right. Spotting the smug upturn of Snape's mouth and the somewhat constipated expression on Remus's face, she felt a devious thought beginning to form in her head. Leaning slightly closer to the Slytherin Head, she smiled and stated, "Professor, I just wanted to thank you… you know, for last night. I really enjoyed it."

Severus snapped his gaze to her, but relaxed slightly upon realizing that her intention was solely to rile up the wolf, who had just choked on his tea. Flicking his eyes to his other side, he gleefully noticed that Lupin had gone as stiff as a post. As he reached for his coffee, he cleared his throat. "I think _I_ ought to be the one thanking _you_, Miss Tonks."

"You certainly should be, _Professor_. I do believe I managed to… _teach_ you a thing or two," the woman winked, turning away so as not to start giggling. Upon regaining control of herself, she drew in a quick breath and picked up a wedge of toast. "I'd love to do that again sometime… if you're game."

Hearing Remus mutter something inappropriate under his breath, the Potions Master tilted his head and leaned back in his chair. "I will certainly keep that under consideration. You do have… remarkable skills."

"Well, you know how to find me," Tonks shrugged.

Red-faced, the Defense instructor suddenly pushed out of his chair.

"Going so soon, Lupin?" Snape asked, feigning innocence. "You haven't even finished your –"

"Sudden indigestion," the werewolf muttered before leaving the Head Table.

The pink-haired Auror pinched her lips together as she watched his retreating backside, waiting until he was almost out of sight before laughing loudly. Though she knew that she was drawing attention from the remaining members of staff, Tonks again leaned toward Snape and touched his arm. "Oh, _that_ was fun!"

Severus pulled his arm away and snorted under his breath. "Any particular reason why you've decided to send him off with his tail between his legs instead of mooning after him?"

"Oh, I just want to get his haunches up a bit," the witch grinned. "I first wanted to see if you were right, which it appears you are, so now… _now_, I get to torture him a bit. He turned me down when I fawned over him, but now that he thinks I'm bunching up _your_ bedsheets, he'll realize what he's missing. Since it does appear he's seething with jealousy, I'm going to temporarily count _that_ as a win."

"Merlin save us from scheming females," he murmured.

"Don't tell me you're not enjoying it."

Preparing to take another sip of his coffee, he shook his head. "Don't be absurd."

Tonks lifted her own cup. "To mutual satisfaction, then."

The wizard coughed, and then nearly choked on the hot liquid when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"Severus," McGonagall scowled. "A word."

Begrudgingly, he rose from his seat and followed her through the staff entrance. When they were away from prying eyes and ears in her office, she rounded on him. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you?"

"Is there a particular answer you're seeking, or shall I provide you a list?" he sneered.

"Don't get smart with me, young man!" the witch snapped. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Snape sank down into the closest chair. "Being berated like an errant schoolboy for an offense I apparently committed without any recollection of doing so."

"No recollection?" she scoffed, gesturing to the door. "You were just _flirting_ with _Nymphadora Tonks_ in front of the entire school!"

"Oh," he snickered. "That."

"Yes, _that_," Minerva grumbled, folding her arms. "Are you sleeping with her?"

"For fuck's sake!" the man hissed. "Of course not!"

When she merely raised an eyebrow, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I have never slept with, nor shall I ever sleep with _Nymphadora Tonks_. I would say she has better taste, but clearly not if she's panting after Lupin."

"Lupin," she repeated. "The two of you were, what, having him on?"

"Yes."

"Trying to stir him up?"

"Yes."

"To make him jealous?"

"Yes."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. "Did it work?"

A smirk appeared on his face. "Of course it did."

"And how do you think it affected Hermione?"

His expression morphed into something more serious. "I don't… the curse should in no way be –"

"I'm not _talking_ about the bloody curse, you blithering imbecile!" she shouted. "I'm _talking_ about _Hermione_! About her _feelings_! Remus isn't the only one who left the Great Hall after your little _performance_, but I'm fairly certain _he_ didn't leave it in tears."


	68. Emotional Outbursts

**A/N: Two updates in the same month! Boom! Thank you all for all of the love!  
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><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>**

**Chapter 68**

"Tonks is sitting at the Head Table," Harry mumbled.

Ron stuffed a spoonful of eggs into his mouth. "She's no' a professa."

"Oh, Ronnie," Lavender giggled, touching his face. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

Ginny snorted loudly, meeting her roommate's gaze. "Apparently, she doesn't find everything he does cute anymore."

"Thank the gods," Hermione mumbled, glancing over at the boy's embarrassed face and then up at the Head Table where she noticed the Auror settling into the seat beside Snape. "Technically, she's an invited guest of the school. The professors can allow whomever they want to eat with them."

"Poor Tonks," Harry sighed. "Stuck next to Snape."

"_Professor_ Snape," she corrected with a roll of her eyes. "And she's not _stuck_ there. There are a number of other empty seats she could have chosen."

Ginny waggled her eyebrows and leaned forward. "Maybe she fancies him."

"Oh, shut up, Ginny!"

"Don't be ridiculous!"

"Gross!"

"I'm trying to eat, you know."

The redhead giggled at all of the protests and noises of disgust emanating from those sitting near enough to hear her, and then shrugged. "It's just a theory."

"A stupid one," Ron stated.

"_I'm_ not the one looking stupid," his sister muttered under her breath, referring to the fact that Lavender had just dabbed his chin with her napkin.

Hermione stifled a laugh and then shook her head. "I thought perhaps she fancies Remus. She always tried to talk to him."

"I thought so, too, but maybe… maybe she just has a thing for older men," Ginny replied. "Or maybe she's moved on?"

"Or _maybe_ she just picked the closest open seat."

Harry nodded. "That _is_ the closest open seat to Remus."

"Yes, I suppose," Ginny stated slowly while bearing a victorious grin, "but it isn't _Remus_ who she's presently flirting with, _is_ it?"

"What?" came the collective gasp as everyone's head snapped up at the comment.

"Merlin!"

"Gods!"

Hermione found herself as equally shocked as her friends while watching Tonks lean up against Severus. _What the… she didn't seem anywhere near as friendly with him last night. But maybe it came on because he complimented her? Maybe she took it the wrong way, and now… Wait, _what_? What is he doing?_

"Is _he_ flirting back?"

"Surprised he knows how."

_He _is_! He's… he's…_ She swallowed heavily and narrowed her eyes, continuing to stare at the Head Table. _He's smiling. At her. In public._

"Don't suppose they've ever… _you know_, do ya?"

"Shut up, Seamus."

"Just sayin'. She looks like she could get a bit freaky. Probably his type."

"Shut _up_, Seamus!"

Her chest suddenly tightened, and Hermione returned her eyes to her plate. Her appetite had vanished in the past few seconds_. He _never_ smiles in public. Well, not genuine smiles. Not like _that_. He's smiled at me. I've made him smile like that. Last night, he… he was with _me_. _He_ started it. He wanted _me.

_But _she_ was there, wasn't she? He said himself that he had not actually planned on sleeping with me. _Her heart did not want to believe any of it could be true, but her head would not stop suggesting things. _What if he was only with me because he couldn't be with her? _

_No. No, stop this, Granger. You can't think like this. You can't. He wouldn't… There has to be another explanation._

The sound of laughter emanated from the front of the room, causing the young with to look up once more. Upon seeing Tonks cheerfully staring up at Severus and touching his arm, Hermione immediately averted her gaze.

"She's no stunner, but still prettier than anyone I could see him with."

"Being pretty doesn't stop you being a nutter."

"Seriously! Anyone willing to let Snape up their skirt has to be barkin' mad."

Tears stung at the back of her eyes as she listened to the students around her making snide comments and retching noises. Unable to take it any longer, she quietly mumbled that she was heading to the infirmary to get started on her tasks early and then slipped out from her seat.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she surreptitiously rubbed at her face to prevent tears from actually falling. When she had exited the Great Hall, she ran to the nearest staircase and quickly got out of sight. There was still an hour or so left until she needed to report to Madam Pomfrey, and she knew that she needed to get her emotions under control before she set to work.

_You're imagining things; you must be. It's ridiculous to think that he and Tonks could… But he _did_ compliment her. He never compliments people. I mean, he compliments me, but he thinks he's indebted to me. _And_ we're sleeping together. They can't be sleeping together. I mean, I would know, right? _

"How _would_ I know?" she hissed, balling her hands into fists and wrapping them around her waist. _It's not as though he's ever told me that there's no one else in his life. He loves Lily, but that doesn't mean he can't just have sex with someone else. It's not like _he's_ on restrictions._

_That's what Remus must have meant. Perhaps he saw them together_. _But what exactly did he see them doing?_ Hermione scowled and set off in the direction of the library. She needed time to be alone and brood. Frankly, she could not decide whether she was more upset about Severus giving friendly attention to Tonks or about the vile things her Housemates spewed regarding anyone who could be attracted to Snape.

"I'm _not_ a nutter!" she growled.

"Could've fooled me," a nearby portrait mumbled.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"I'm not _talking_ about the bloody curse, you blithering imbecile! I'm _talking_ about _Hermione_! About her _feelings_! Remus isn't the only one who left the Great Hall after your little _performance_, but I'm fairly certain _he_ didn't leave it in tears."

Severus felt his stomach twist into a knot. "What?"

"Didn't bother to think of that, did you?" Minerva stated coldly. "You deliberately manipulated the emotional attachment Remus has for Nymphadora without considering how it could affect someone with a similar attachment to _you_."

"She was in tears?" he repeated.

"_Yes_! She hid it well enough, I'll grant you, but it was more than obvious to me. It _should_ have been more than obvious to you."

The wizard exhaled deeply and hung his head.

"It may have slipped your mind, Severus, because she has been dealing extraordinarily well while under unbelievable pressures, but beneath all of that… beneath all of those protective walls you've helped her build, she's still a seventeen-year-old girl scared out of her wits." The Deputy Headmistress took in a long breath and shook her head. "She would be self-conscious enough without all of the trials she's facing, but as it is… I honestly don't know how she manages to keep herself so well composed."

"Nor do I," he mumbled.

McGonagall eyed him for a moment before perching against her desk. "Look, I told you several months ago that you must not forget that you are the only man she will ever know. At the same time, though, she has undoubtedly recognized that the same cannot be said about you regarding her. You have experiences – and a certain sense of freedom – that has been denied her, and beyond all of that, she has expressed to both of us that she has feelings of inadequacies where you're concerned."

"She and I have discussed that, and I've explained –"

"It doesn't matter," she interrupted. "You may think everything between the two of you is fine and dandy, but I can guarantee that the moment she caught sight of you chatting up another witch – an older, more experienced witch – she began to have doubts. I don't need to be a Legilimens to understand the female brain."

"I assure you: Legilimency does not help in that regard," the man sighed.

Minerva fixed him with a dark glare and folded her arms. "I understand that you and Remus have a complicated history –"

He snorted disdainfully.

"—but you cannot let that cloud your judgment. I know I don't need to remind you we're at war, but do try to remember you're on the same side. I can't stop you from bickering or making snide comments, but the juvenile antics need to stop. The two of you are nearly forty. It's time to grow up! Your lives could very well depend on each other!"

Severus sighed, but sat up straight and focused his attentions on removing the silencing charm from their mental connection.

"Do you hear me?" the Gryffindor Head queried.

"Yes," he snapped.

_'…don't know what he was doing, so just stop it! It's probably nothing… but then Remus said – No! Stop this, Granger. Just stop thinking about it. It isn't important, so…'_

"Severus Snape."

The man opened his eyes and found his colleague watching him intently.

"You have half an hour or so before you're expected in your classroom," she explained. "Find her and apologize. It will mean far more to her if you do it in person instead of through whatever psychic thing you have."

With a nod, he rose from his seat and slipped out of her office. He kept the connection open just long enough to establish Hermione's location, and then quickly set off in the direction of the library. After giving a muffled word of greeting to Madam Pince, he walked to the farthest corner of the stacks where he knew she was hiding. He paused just long enough to cast a Notice-Me-Not charm, a misdirection spell, and a _Muffliato_ before stepping fully into her line of sight.

"Miss Granger."

Her eyes slowly rose from the book lying on the table. "Professor?"

"I believe that you and I need to have a conversation."

Hermione narrowed her eyes and sat back in her chair. "Regarding?"

The wizard inhaled uncomfortably and crossed his arms. "An unfortunate misunderstanding… which is entirely my fault. I… about Miss Tonks…"

"So there is something," she muttered, standing up from her chair to return a book to the shelf behind her.

"No!" he exclaimed while rounding the table to reach her. "Despite what it may have looked like, I have no… connections with Miss Tonks. We were merely… torturing Lupin."

The girl glanced over her shoulder at him. "What?"

"Her words, I assure you," Severus stated. "Though, I did appreciate the sentiment."

"What do you mean _torturing_ him?" she asked, staring at him in confusion.

He let out a shuddering sigh and leaned against the bookcase. "It appears Miss Tonks has abandoned all the sense she was given and has set her cap at a werewolf who is too stupid to realize what's in front of him."

Hermione tilted her head. "She's trying to make him jealous so he'll admit he fancies her?"

He gave a distressed grunt.

"And you're helping her?" she exclaimed in surprise. "_You_?"

A small smirk appeared on his face as he rolled his shoulders. "It was an opportunity to torture Lupin."

The witch snorted under her breath. "Well, _that_ I can believe."

Snape turned slightly to watch as she re-shelved her book. He found it reassuring that she had visibly relaxed since he had first come upon her.

Clearing her throat, Hermione looked up at him once more. "So you and Tonks aren't sleeping together, then?"

"Christ, no," he replied, rubbing his face. "Merlin, even if I found her remotely attractive… when would I ever have the bloody time!?"

Raising one eyebrow, she folded her arms. "She is a Metamorphagus, you know. She could look like anything you wanted."

The man sighed. "Yes, but she's still a Hufflepuff. That cannot be altered."

The girl giggled as she placed her hands behind her back and leaned against the bookshelf. "I'm a Gryffindor."

"Of that, I am fully aware," he muttered with a roll of his eyes.

"Not worse than a Hufflepuff?"

"You? No."

She quirked a half smile. "Why did you come here?"

"I regret having not better considered the venue and the consequences of my actions," Severus explained. "It was… brought to my attention that you were upset, and I apologize for that."

"Oh," Hermione mumbled, flicking her gaze to the floor. "Erm, who… "

"Minerva was concerned. She said that you were in tears, and –"

"I wasn't in tears," she gasped, shaking her head. "I mean, I almost… I wanted to cry, but I didn't."

_Minerva, exaggerating to make me feel guiltier? Of course she was_. The wizard exhaled loudly. "Nevertheless, I apologize."

"Thank you. I… I feel rather silly now. It's just… "

When she trailed off with a shrug, he tilted her chin up with a finger. "Hermione, I swear to you: I am attracted to no one else. I have only been with you in the past year, and it shall remain that way."

"Just me?" she whispered.

"Just you," he confirmed. There was a slight flutter in his chest as he noticed the genuine smile that spread across her face. Without bothering to think, the wizard leaned down and gently pressed his lips against hers.

"Mmph," the girl grunted, pulling away to glance wide-eyed about the library and then up at him. "Severus! What if somebody comes –"

"They'll suddenly find themselves on the other side of the library, staring at a book on venereal diseases," he interrupted.

"Gods, don't remind me," she groaned. "Madam Pomfrey plans on covering those next week."

"Lucky you."

"Mmm-not really," Hermione giggled, resting one hand on his chest. She did not protest when he kissed her again, but instead opened her mouth to him. She let out an audible gasp when he pressed her into the bookcase and slipped his fingers into her hair. Though she fully trusted his charms would prevent them from being discovered, it still felt as though they could be spotted at any moment – snogging in the stacks, in broad daylight, during a school day.

She gave a sudden cry and pulled away once more. "Severus! You have class!"

"Shite," he grimaced, removing his hands from her and retreating a few steps. He ran a hand through his hair before straightening his robes. "Frankly, I'd rather avoid them. Half of them are panicking for their NEWTS, and the other half should be."

"You're going to be late."

Nodding, the wizard turned to leave. "Perhaps I'll catch McLaggen with his robes unfastened."

Hermione laughed and sank back against the books. She began to smooth out the front of her robes, but startled slightly when the man unexpectedly returned. "Sir?"

"That book, Granger," he said, eyes glinting, "the one on wandlore – can you show it to me quickly?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly. "Why?"

"I have an idea."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Severus, my dear boy!" Albus smiled. "So good of you to visit. I was growing weary of the conversations in my head."

"You look as though you're feeling better," the Slytherin murmured, noting how the man had propped himself up against his pillows.

"Yes, I find myself much improved. Poppy has even agreed to release me from my restrictions starting tomorrow afternoon. I look forward to seeing the students once again."

"Whatever for?" Snape scoffed.

The Headmaster chuckled softly. "Minerva shall still run the staff meeting, but I shall return to preside over tomorrow's evening meal."

"I see."

"Did you stop by for a reason? A concern about the young Mr. Malfoy, perhaps?"

"Not really, no," Severus murmured. "Though, I cannot imagine he'll be terribly excited to see your shining face at the Head Table."

"I am certain not," the elder agreed. "Do you feel he may be in jeopardy?"

"Of course he is. We're _all_ in bloody jeopardy," the spy sneered. "It is entirely possible that Narcissa Malfoy may not live to see Sunday morning, but I believe that I have done all that I can to prevent that outcome."

Dumbledore pinched his lips together and then cleared his throat. "I do not mean to be a bother..."

_Hook. Line. Sinker._ The Potions Master grinned inwardly, though he maintained a neutral expression.

"…but could I see your last summoning? Perhaps there may be something you missed. A second pair of eyes –"

"Of course, Headmaster," he interrupted, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at the familiar statement. Without waiting for instruction, he turned on his heel and made his way back down to the Headmaster's Office in order to retrieve the Pensieve. Upon his return, he placed the viewing bowl on the bed and then began the process of removing a copy of his memory – very slightly altered – to deposit in the bowl.

As Dumbledore entered the Pensieve, Snape crossed his arms behind his back and strode over toward the window. He had known that the Headmaster would eventually want to see the memories, and so he had taken the opportunity to enhance them in such a way as to convince Dumbledore that the Dark Lord was researching wands. It was not a full guarantee, but he was relatively certain that the elder wizard would notice the worn, purple book sitting upside down upon the armrest of the Dark Lord's chair.

It had taken the better part of the day to manufacture the image in such a way that the copy of the book Hermione had been reading was conspicuous enough for the Headmaster's eagle eyes, but only just so.

"Severus," Albus stated upon returning to the present, "thank you."

"Of course," the Slytherin nodded, eyeing him carefully.

The Headmaster appeared somewhat paler than before and the steely gaze in his eyes indicated that he was thinking through something. Coughing quietly, he leaned back against his pillows. "I find myself quite tired now. Thank you for stopping, Severus. I shall see you tomorrow."

With a nod, the dark-haired man swept out of the room, through the office, and down the spiral staircase. Once he was past the gargoyle, he briefly allowed himself a grin for he damn well knew that Dumbledore had not dismissed him in order to rest, but rather to scheme.

"Severus."

Snape arched an eyebrow at Lupin's clipped greeting as he passed by him in the corridor. He continued walking, however, until Minerva's words began to ring in his head. Pausing mid-step, he turned around and cleared his throat. "Lupin."

Halting suddenly, the werewolf slowly turned to look at him. "Yes?"

"About Miss Tonks…"

A scowl settled onto the man's face.

The Slytherin sighed dramatically and folded his arms. "You should probably know that she and I are not actually involved in any relationship beyond that of occasional colleagues."

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, Severus strode towards him. "Miss Tonks is currently suffering under the delusion that she fancies you, and was merely attempting to make you jealous enough to actually do something about it."

The werewolf's mouth hung open, and his eyes flicked around the darkened corridor as if he might find answers hidden amongst the shadows. "And you were, what, helping her with that?"

"Who be I to turn down an opportunity to rankle your cage?" the man asked with a shrug.

"I can believe _that_, at least." Remus rubbed his face and shook his head. After a moment, he adjusted his stance and narrowed his eyes. "So you and she never…"

_Potter and I aren't the only ones apparently sharing a brain_. He snorted under his breath before shaking his head. "Never. Last night, Miss Tonks was on duty, and before that, she spent an hour and a half assisting me with Miss Granger's instruction. I assure you that nothing untoward occurred between Nymphadora and myself, last night or any time prior."

The Defense instructor sagged in relief. "Merlin. She was just… Wait. Why are _you_ telling me this?"

"Minerva deemed it necessary to instruct me on suitable Head Table behavior," he muttered, glaring at the floor.

"Gave you a bollocking, did she?" Lupin smirked.

"One could say that."

A handful of seconds passed in uncomfortable silence. As Snape made to turn away, the other man cleared his throat. "I only turned her down because… well, I don't think she ought to be involved… I –"

"Forgive me for interrupting," the Slytherin murmured, "but I truly have no interest in your love life. I assure you, dispensing relationship advice is not a hobby of mine."

Remus grimaced as he watched the spy pivot away. "Good night, Severus."

Slowing his gait momentarily, Snape tilted his head. "Good night."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

"Hermione, you're here rather early."

The witch swallowed a bite of food as she looked up to see her friends filing in to take their seats at the Gryffindor table. "I have a lot of brewing to do tonight, so I wanted to start early."

"Ah," Ginny murmured, giving a weak smile to Dean as he strode past them to sit with Seamus and some of the seventh years.

"Has Madam Pomfrey said anything about Dumbledore?" Harry asked in a low voice.

Hermione hesitated slightly as she considered her response. The matron nurse had not discussed anything with her, though Snape had communicated with her that the Headmaster would be returning to his post that evening. Truly, that was why she had decided to come to supper ahead of everyone else. While she knew the majority of students would be pleased by the wizard's return, she had a sinking feeling about Draco. Severus had to pretend that he knew nothing of Dumbledore's condition, so it was too dangerous to give Draco advanced warning. He would discover his failure shortly, and she wanted to be ready to react if things went poorly.

"Well, she hasn't said anything," the girl shrugged, "but she has seemed to be in good spirits the last few days."

"That must be a good sign, right?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but was prevented from doing so as a loud cheer sounded. Raising her eyes to the front of the Great Hall, she smiled at seeing Dumbledore making his way to his seat ahead of McGonagall. As the Headmaster gave a little wave to the student body, she quickly glanced toward Slytherin table, but found no trace of the Malfoy heir.

"He's back, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, patting his friend on the shoulder. "He's back!"

They, along with a number of other Gryffindor students, rose from their seats to continue their applause, and Hermione followed suit. Her eyes continued to sweep the room, meeting Snape's gaze briefly, before settling in the direction of the main entrance.

"Tut, tut!" Dumbledore stated loudly with a smile. "Mustn't let supper grow cold!"

Students chuckled as they made motions to return to their seats. Having caught sight of a flash of pale blonde hair through the doorway, however, Hermione bid good-bye to her friends and tried to exit the Hall as inconspicuously as possible. Once free of their sight, she looked in both directions before following the echoes of footsteps on the staircase.

Hoping not to get too far behind him, the witch broke into a run. She nearly fell after tripping over a moving step, but caught hold of the banister in time. Spotting sight of the boy a flight above her, she renewed her speed and tore up the stairs. She had begun to ascend another staircase, but realized that he had fled down the corridor instead. Cursing under her breath, she turned back around and sprinted after him, rounding a corner in time to see him disappear through a door.

Hermione slowed to a more respectable pace before pushing open the door to reveal a boys' lavatory. As the door swung shut behind her, she looked to her left to see Draco hunched over one of the sinks. His knuckles had gone white with the force he used to grip the edge of the porcelain basin.

Uncertain as what to say, she took a hesitant step forward. When he suddenly swung around with his wand extended, she automatically drew hers. His face bore a nasty scowl, and his hand shook slightly as he kept his wand trained on her chest.

"Well," she mumbled, "are you going to hex me, or not?"

He stared at her in silence with a hard look in his eyes for several long seconds before dropping his hands to his sides. Appearing to crumple in on himself, he sagged back against the sink and pressed the butt of his hands into his eyes. "He's going to kill her."

Swallowing heavily, the girl turned to cast a locking ward upon the door along with a _Muffliato_. Having finished that, she cautiously crept toward him. "You don't know that."

"I do!" he shrieked, dropping his hands again. "I fucking do!"

"Draco –"

"He fucking told me that if Dumbledore lives, she dies… and he looked pretty fucking alive to me!" Malfoy hissed, gesturing angrily towards the door.

Hermione took in a deep breath and held up her hands in what she hoped was a non-threatening manner. "It's not the end of the year, though. You still have months before –"

"I'm not going to get anywhere near him now, am I?" he shouted, shaking his head. "He knows that, and he'll… Oh, gods! It's all my fault! I was so stupid! So fucking stupid to trust her!"

The witch jumped when he suddenly slammed his fist into a mirror. Seeing the blood dripping down his hands as he continued to punch the glass, she rushed forward and threw her arms about his torso. She could feel him struggling – whether against her or himself, she could not be sure – but she solely focused upon pulling him away from the broken mirror.

Eventually, he gave way with a giant sob, causing them both to sink down to the floor. His entire body shook with his weeping, and Hermione could not keep herself from tearing up in empathy. Though he leaned away from her, she tightened her grip against his chest and gently rested her cheek against his back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, pulling away from her. He pressed his forehead against the stone floor and covered his head with his hands. "I'm so sorry, Mummy. It's all my fault… all my fault… sorry…"

Tears streamed down the girl's face as she watched and listened to him grieve. She remembered collapsing into a similar position several months prior and knew exactly the amount of pain he was enduring. Wishing to comfort him somehow, she placed her left hand against his back and slowly stroked along his spine.

**'Granger?'**

She took in a sudden breath at the voice. _ 'Severus! What do I do?'_

**'I do not know, but… it would probably be best if you could keep him hidden while I'm away.'**

_'Away? Where are you going?'_

**'I have to report it.'**

She grimaced and covered her face with her right hand. _'Please be careful.'_

**'I will try.'**

Hermione inhaled deeply before squeezing the boy's shoulder. "Professor Snape has gone to him. He's going to do what he said."

Draco snorted disdainfully through his tears and began to fist his hands in his hair.

"Give him a chance," she whispered, resuming her attempts at soothing him. "He'll do everything he can."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As he waited for the response to his request for summons, Severus closed his eyes and took in a steadying breath. He was relatively certain that he could hang Bellatrix with her own rope, but there was always uncertainty when the Dark Lord was involved. He could still order Narcissa's execution if he so chose.

The familiar burn flared on his forearm, and the wizard calmly pressed the tip of his wand to the Dark Mark, disappearing in a swirl of black smoke.

"Severus," Voldemort cooed from his chair. "You have news?"

Donning an expression of regret, the newcomer dropped to his knees and ducked his head. "My Lord, I apologize to inform you that Dumbledore has managed to survive his –"

"What?" Bellatrix howled, launching from where she had been perched on the Dark Lord's armrest.

"Silence, Bella," the tyrant hissed while slowly standing from his chair. "Severus, rise."

Snape did as commanded and did not flinch when the harsh, red eyes bore into his own. He pushed his fabricated memories to the front of his mind in preparation for an entry, which never came. Instead, the reptilian wizard swung away to face the small crowd gathered in the parlor.

"Dumbledore lives," Voldemort exclaimed almost pleasantly, spreading his arms wide. His countenance suddenly became horrifically dark as he shouted, "The old fool _lives_!"

The Lestrange brothers jumped, as did Narcissa. Lucius merely closed his eyes in despair while Bellatrix leveled hers accusingly at Snape.

"This is your fault!" she hissed. "You did something!"

"A heavy accusation you levy, Bella," the Dark Lord murmured, returning his gaze to the Potions Master. "And how do you respond?"

"I did nothing, my Lord," Severus stated calmly. "The Headmaster was under constant surveillance by the Aurors, and I was not to be allowed entrance to his quarters as per Mad-Eye Moody's instructions. No word was spoken of his condition beyond those walls until he appeared at this evening's meal. I did not wish to jeopardize –"

"Of course not," Voldemort interrupted.

"But Angel's Trumpet is lethal!" Bella argued. "He shouldn't have survived unless someone interfered."

"Severus?"

The professor cleared his throat. "I was informed by one of the Aurors responsible for compiling the report that the poison was not in great enough concentration to cause death in someone who has developed tolerance to –"

"Bullshit!" Bellatrix hissed, striding forward with her eyes blazing. "I was assured that the poison was of lethal concentration! I tested it myself!"

Snape huffed in annoyance as she pushed her bony finger into his chest. "And exactly what sort of stringent test did you run?"

"I fed it to one of the children!"

His stomach twisted violently for he had not known that any of the Jiggers children were missing.

"It was strong enough that the little brat succumbed to symptoms within two days!" she screeched.

"And where is this dead child?" Voldemort asked.

Bellatrix shrugged casually. "I had no use for her corpse. I gave it to Greyback."

Severus forced down the bile rising in his throat and ground out his question. "You are absolutely certain the child was deceased? Lesser doses of Angel's Trumpet can cause prolonged unconsciousness."

The witch raised her chin haughtily and looked away. "Well, Greyback certainly claimed she was dead."

_You heartless bitch!_ The Potions Master balled one hand into a fist and pressed it into his side. "You thought that a child would serve as an adequate measure of the effect of the poison against a full-grown, powerful wizard?"

"Well—"

"And did you account for the fact that the poison would need to be diluted in either food or drink?" he pressed.

Bellatrix fell silent as she twirled away, only to be caught by the arm by her husband at the silent instruction of their Master.

"Severus," Voldemort stated coldly, "since you are an expert in poisons, why did you not verify the lethality of the draught yourself?"

Hearing the muffled giggle of the deranged witch, Snape drew in a steadying breath and hoped that Draco would escape blame. "As I am certain your Lordship is aware, the boy did not come to me for any advice or assistance prior to acting. I did take the liberty of consulting with him after being made of his involvement so as to ensure that no evidence remained in the castle. I was informed by the young Malfoy that he was explicitly instructed not to approach me… as you did not wish it."

"Instructed by whom?" the tyrant snarled.

The spy did not verbalize his accusation, but tilted his head and pointed his gaze at Bellatrix. Following his eyes, Voldemort hissed under his breath and immediately stalked across the room to seize the offending witch by the throat.

"Is what he says true, Bella?"

"N-n-n…"

He tightened his grip. "You didn't advise your nephew against consulting the most knowledgeable potioneer in my employ?"

"I… I… d-don't t-trust h-him, m-my L-lord"

Growling in disgust, Voldemort threw her to the ground and cast the _Cruciatus_. "YOU could have cost me Dumbledore's DEATH!"

Snape averted his eyes as the witch screamed and thrashed upon the ground. He instead looked past the Dark Lord's shoulder to see that Narcissa stood steady, though she bore an unmistakable look of fear. He stared at her until her blue eyes met his, and then gave her the smallest of nods. A tear trickled down her cheek, and she pressed a hand against her stomach, but she returned the action before dropping her gaze to the floor.

Eventually, the tyrant let up his assault and stumbled backwards from the twitching witch. Collapsing into his chair, he raised his head to look at his spy. "Severus… I expect you will inform… the young Master Malfoy that he is to seek your guidance in his task. Should another failure arise, you will both pay for my displeasure!"

"Yes, my Lord," he nodded.

"Get out of my sight," Voldemort demanded, resting his head in one of his hands. "All of you! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Immediately, the small crowd jerked to attention and headed toward the nearest exit. Severus briefly glanced behind him to see Rodolphus dragging his wife from the room by her ankles, and could not fight the smug upturn of his lips. Once they were all free of the parlor, the doors slammed shut behind them.

As he turned to leave, the professor felt something pressed into his palm, and he looked up to see Narcissa beside him. He enclosed his hand around the note, and she pulled away after mouthing a silent word of gratitude to follow her husband up the staircase.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Closing her eyes, Hermione leaned her head against the stone wall of the bathroom and said another prayer for the continued safety of both Severus and Narcissa Malfoy. Upon finishing, she looked again to the boy who was sniffling beside her. After he had cried himself dry, she had healed his torn hands and cleaned away the broken glass. For what seemed like hours since then, they had sat shoulder to shoulder upon the floor, waiting for any news.

"How is your hand?" she whispered.

"Fine," Draco grimaced.

The witch eyed him carefully before shifting slightly to relieve the numbness in her hip. "You look like you're in pain."

"It isn't my hand," he muttered, clutching his left arm to his stomach.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have any of the salve with you?"

After a moment, he nodded and dug into one of his pockets to produce the tin. His hands were shaking terribly, however, and he could not manage to pry it open. Gasping in frustration, he threw it across the room and buried his face in his hands.

Hermione waited a few seconds before summoning the tin back to her and opened it with relative ease. Scooping out a glob of the orange ointment, she cleared her throat. "Hold out your arm."

"What?" the boy snapped, glancing at her from beneath his thumb. Realizing what she meant, he begrudgingly undid his cuffs and rolled back his sleeves enough to bare the inflamed Mark.

Without wincing at the sight of it, she began dabbing the salve onto his arm and then gently smoothed it into the angry flesh. Once she had finished covering the wound, she wiped her hands on her jeans and closed up the tin.

"Thanks," Malfoy muttered as he took the tin from her and shoved it back into his robes. After pulling down his sleeve, he fished out a crumpled piece of parchment and then took great care in straightening out its creases.

The witch kept silent for a while as she watched him, but frowned when noticing his lip beginning to tremble. "What is that?"

Draco briefly glared at her and then returned his eyes to the paper. Another minute passed before he replied, "A letter… from my mother."

"Oh."

Eventually the boy sighed and held it out to her. Hermione stared at him in surprise and cautiously accepted the parchment. As she moved to read it, he wrapped his arms about his shins and buried his face against his knees.

**_My darling baby boy,_**

**_I have made many mistakes in my life, but you, my child, are my greatest accomplishment. Despite what anyone says to the contrary – for no one can know you as I do – you are an intelligent, compassionate, resilient soul. You have always been the brightest joy in my life, and no matter what you do or choose, your light will never diminish in my eyes. _**

**_Dark times and trials are upon us, my son, but I ask that you never give up hope. I will do everything I possibly can to keep you safe. I would give my last breath to see you happy, and I would suffer every pain imaginable just to spare you one. If I should die tomorrow, know that I will always be with you. You will never be alone. You must trust in that._**

**_Words could never express how deeply my love for you runs, Draco. I could write of it every minute for the remainder of my life, and it would not capture the extent of it. If I can leave you with nothing else on this earth, then at least you shall know you are loved._**

**_I am, and will always be, proud of you._**

**_With all my heart,_**

**_Narcissa Kerensa Malfoy_**

Hermione wiped tears from her eyes as she returned the letter. "She really loves you."

He nodded slowly and stretched out his legs. After reading through it once more, he ran his thumb across his mother's signature. "The night I was… Marked… afterwards, she took me upstairs to her rooms… it hurt so much, I don't remember everything, but I remember her slapping my father, screaming at him… She threw him out of her rooms, and she… h-held me f-for hours."

Closing her eyes, the witch instinctively slipped her hand into his.

"I couldn't sleep because of the pain," he continued, "so she sat up with me all night, re-applying wraps of murtlap every so often just so… so I could sleep. She's done that every night I've been home."

"Wow," Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand. "She sounds like an amazing person."

Draco nodded as tears again dripped down his cheeks. "I don't want her to die."

"She's going to be okay," the girl reassured. "You just have to have faith. She'll be alright. Severus is doing everything he can to protect her."

"Has he said anything?"

She shook her head. "It's… it's rather distracting having the connection between us. He needs to be able to concentrate as much as possible, so I know he must have it silenced until it's safer."

The boy sniffed loudly, pulling his hand away from her to wipe his face. "How distracting?"

"Well, I only hear what he wants me to hear, but he can hear every thought I have."

"Fucking hell," Draco groaned. "Talk about torture."

The witch snorted and returned her hand to her lap. "Right. Because I'm sure your head would be a walk in the park."

"You trust him?" he asked suddenly. "I mean, not just because he told you to, but because you really do?"

Hermione nodded her head against the wall. "Yeah, I really do."

"More than you do Potter?"

Her eyes widened as she considered the question. "Honestly?"

"No, I asked because I wanted you to lie, Granger."

"Just checking," she smirked before letting out a sigh. "Honestly, yes. I trust him more than Harry."

Malfoy snorted in shock. "Well, fuck."

The witch giggled, but froze when she heard Snape's voice in her head. _'Severus, are you alright?'_

**'I am fine.'**

_'And Narcissa?'_

**'She is unharmed. Everything went according to plan. Is Draco still with you?'**

_'He is here, yes.'_

**'Please tell him that the fault was placed with his aunt. He has been given another chance, but I shall need to speak with him before he does anything.'**

_'Tonight?'_

**'No. I must report to Dumbledore. I shall send word to him when I am ready.'**

Hermione gasped in relief and covered her face_. 'I'm so glad you're alright.'_

**'As am I. I shall speak with you when I can.'**

"Okay," she replied aloud.

Draco's eyes snapped to her face and he immediately grabbed her by the shoulders. "You're speaking with him? What is it? What happened?"

The witch met his panicked questions with a reassuring smile. "They're alright! She wasn't harmed! He's given you another chance!"

"Oh my gods," he whispered, collapsing back to the floor in relief. "My mother is safe?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Bellatrix took the blame."

The pureblood blew out a deep breath and picked himself up from the floor. He walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet.

"Professor Snape asks that you not do anything until he has a chance to speak with you," she added while standing up from the floor. "He'll send word for you."

"Yes, fine."

As he washed his face with cold water, Hermione gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "I really am glad that she's okay."

With that, she made her way toward the exit.

"Good night, Granger."

A smile spread across her face in response to his muffled word of farewell. "Good night, Draco."

Leaving the Slytherin prefect to put himself back together, the witch cancelled the charms she had cast on the door. She slipped out into the corridor only to startle at the sight of Ron and Harry standing with their wands drawn.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied. Feeling incredibly uneasy about the upcoming situation, she swiftly sent a mental Patronus and hoped Snape was not already too involved with the Headmaster to advise her. "What –"

Her words died in her throat when Harry seized her arm and attempted to yank her to the side. She pulled out of his grasp, however, and determinedly placed herself in front of the door.

**'What's wrong?'**

"What are you doing with him?" Harry snapped.

"What?" she gasped. "Who?"

"Don't play dumb, Hermione!" he growled. "Malfoy! You've been in there with Draco fucking Malfoy for god only knows how long!"

**'Fucking hell!'**

_'I don't know how to explain!'_

**'That idiot boy is going to be the death of me.'**

"Harry –"

"What are you doing with him, Hermione?" he repeated angrily.

The witch bit down on her bottom lip as she flicked her eyes between an irate Harry and a thoroughly confused Ronald. _'Severus! How do I handle this?'_

**'If the Dark Lord sees or hears any of this, we can explain it as the cover story it is.'**

_'Okay.'_

**'We can deal with the outcome. Whatever happens.'**

_ Okay, okay.'_

"Tell me!"

The door behind her suddenly opened to reveal a moderately disheveled Draco. His eyes initially widened at the sight before him, and he was about to sneer when Hermione quickly grabbed hold of his arm. She all but pushed him down the hallway, shouting, "Not now! Just go!"

Malfoy stared at her with an uncertain expression, but finally relented and quickly walked away. Catching sight of motion in her peripheral vision, Hermione immediately drew her wand and cast a partner shield on the blonde just in time to block a hex. Before anyone else could react, she turned back to face Harry and disarmed him.

"Leave!" she screeched at Draco when he spun around with his wand drawn.

As he did as she instructed, she grabbed hold of Harry's robes and dragged him into the boys' lavatory. She gestured angrily to the dumbfounded redhead to join them, and then slammed the door shut behind him.

"Hexing an unarmed student in the back?" the girl hissed, throwing Harry's wand across the room.

"Drop the prefect act, Hermione!"

"The _prefect act_? Here I thought I was just being a decent human being!"

Ron cleared his throat as he glanced between his two angry friends. "Mione, we went to the infirmary to see you, but when you weren't there, we checked the map. We saw you together and thought he was hurting you!"

"Well, he wasn't," the witch snapped. "Draco and I are friends."

"Friends?" Harry spit. "How the hell can _you_ and that fucking ferret be friends?"

"The same way that you and I could be friends!"

"Hardly! Have you forgotten everything he's done to you?" he hissed. "Everything he's said about you?"

"Oh, because you and Ronald are perfectly innocent in that regard?" she growled, folding her arms to her chest. "Please! The two of you have treated me like shit plenty of times, and I'm still friends with you!"

Ron winced and dropped his gaze to the floor, but Harry's scowl only deepened. "He's the enemy, Hermione!"

"No, he isn't! The world isn't black and white!"

"He's a fucking Death Eater!"

Hermione shook her head angrily. "He doesn't _want_ to be one!"

"Oh, is _that_ what he told you?" the boy scoffed. "And you believed him?"

"I'm not an idiot, Harry! He doesn't need to tell me for me to see something! I know him far better than you do!"

"Oh, you know him? You do recall that his dear, old daddy is a –"

"And yours was a malicious, arrogant bully! Shall I judge you accordingly?"

His face twisted into a sneer. "Is that what your new pal Snape told you?"

"No!" she argued. "That's what _you_ told me!"

The sudden stillness of the room was punctuated only by their heavy breathing. Finally, Harry dropped his voice to a more appropriate level. "You can't possibly trust him."

"I do," she stated confidently.

"How could you?" Harry protested. "How could you possibly trust him? How can you not see that he's using you?"

"He isn't!"

"He _has_ to be!"

Her glare was dark as she ground out, "No."

"Hermione, he nearly drowned you last term."

"The _five_ of you nearly drowned me," she corrected, "but he didn't… intend to nearly kill me. He apologized for it, and… we understand each other. He trusts me, and so I trust him."

"If you trust him so much… if you're _friends_," Harry sneered, "how come you didn't know who he was meeting before the murders?"

Hermione drew in a sharp breath and fixed him with a cold stare.

Ron's eyes were wide as he stepped forward. "You _do_ know, don't you? It _was_ you. You were the one he met. Remus was right, wasn't he?"

Harry's expression morphed into one of disgust and shock. "Hermione!"

Tears formed in her eyes as she felt their revulsion increase.

"Oh shite," Weasley gasped, coming to a sudden realization. "I called you an ugly tramp. I didn't mean that!"

Ignoring his friend's comments, the other boy spoke. "So he's not exactly a _friend_, now is he?"

"Harry, don't –"

"I can't believe you! I defended you to Remus because I didn't think you could ever sink that low, but I guess I was wrong. Remus had you pegged all along, but he was just mistaken as to which Death Eater you were fucking!"

"Stop it!"

"But you've denied it! Hid it from everyone… so how can I even know that this isn't just him playing you? How can I know that he isn't the one who –"

Without thinking, she slapped him across the face and then held up her finger in warning. "One more word about that, Harry James Potter, and I will never speak to you again."

"Who says that would be a bad thing?" he spat.

Swallowing back a sob, Hermione turned to flee, but was prevented from doing so when Ron grabbed hold of her wrist.

"Harry!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "She's Hermione! She's our friend."

"She _used_ to be."

The girl inhaled shakily and tried to extricate her hand. "Don't bother, Ronald. He doesn't want to hear it."

"Well, he's going to hear it!" the redhead argued. "I just fixed things with you, and I'm not going to let him tear it apart again!"

She looked at him in suspicion. "What? You're not going to jump on me about becoming a traitor?"

Ron sighed deeply, and his shoulders sagged. "I don't like you spending time with the ferret. I don't trust him… but I trust you, Hermione. You forgave me for treating you like shite, and you're my friend. Look, I don't know what Harry's talking about, but you're the smartest person I know. You're always right, so if you don't think Malfoy is playing you, then I think I ought to believe you."

As Hermione continued to stare at him in surprise, Harry's jaw dropped. "Ron, are you honestly taking her side? This is Malfoy we're talking about!"

"Yes, I am," he nodded. "Because it's _Hermione_ we're talking about, and she's always had our back even when we completely fuck things up. Think about everything she's done for us… for you."

Feeling exceptionally grateful to him for offering support, she tightened her hold on Ron and then returned her gaze to Harry. "Whether or not you care, I have been doing everything I can to help you. Yes, I want to help Draco as well, but _you_ are my priority. And, for your information, I haven't hidden it from everyone."

The boy narrowed his eyes. "Who knows?"

"Remus, for one," she intoned haughtily. "As well as Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Tonks, Kingsley, and Professor Snape."

Harry snorted under his breath. "Oh, I'm sure Snape is over the moon about that."

"Actually, he tried to convince me to break up with him," Hermione explained. "And I did, for a while, but… I could see that he needed someone, and no one else cared to be there. Professor Snape isn't exactly thrilled about it, but he's keeping our secret. They all are… because if it gets out that Draco and I are seeing each other, they'll kill him. As much as you dislike Draco, you cannot tell me that he deserves death."

The dark-haired wizard only squared his jaw.

"You don't mean that," she whispered. When he said nothing to either confirm or deny it, she closed her eyes and shook her head. "Thanks anyway, Ron."

"Hermione, don't –"

"I'll just…" She pulled her hand out of his and began to back away. "I'll see you later."

"Hermione!"

Ignoring Ron's attempts to call her back, the girl rushed out of the room.


	69. World Gone Mad

**A/N: Thank you for all of the continued reviews! So many of you commented on Ron's remarkable show of maturity, which made me quite happy. On a related note, I have to give a special thank you to meg527, for your review inspired a line of dialogue and subsequently the title of this chapter.  
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**P.S. I was mildly disappointed - as I'm sure some of you will be - that there is no real hanky-panky in Ch. 69, but I think there might just be some soon. **

* * *

><p><strong><em>Bound to Him<em>**

**Chapter 69**

Severus groaned as he stood in the Entrance Hall. He had contacted Hermione the moment he had arrived at the gates, and had been nearly to the castle when her Patronus swam across his thoughts. After assuring her that they could handle whatever happened as a result of Potter's blithering idiocy, he had not silenced the connection again because he wanted an accurate sense of how much damage control would be required. He was fairly certain that the Dark Lord would recognize the necessity of the cover story to protect his interests where Dumbledore's demise was concerned, but it was still best not to upset him any further.

Beyond that, he knew Hermione was handling far more stress than she should be. After keeping watch over Draco and undoubtedly worrying over his own safety as he held audience with the Dark Lord, she did not need Harry _fucking_ Potter – the boy she believed to be her best friend – jumping down her throat. He knew how it felt to have his closest friend turn on him, and it could only be worse given everything she had sacrificed for him. _She_ had done nothing to deserve Potter's vitriol.

Duty prompted him to continue on his way to the Headmaster's Office and to give his report immediately. He had only ever delayed due to injury or when Hermione had needed his attention. The girl was currently not in physical pain or immediate danger, but he did not feel right about leaving her on her own. He could not dismiss the feeling that his meeting with Dumbledore would take some time as they needed to discuss what would be done regarding Draco and the Head wizard's impending end.

Knowing that, Snape was not certain when - or even if - he would be able to check on her that night.

_Nothing's time sensitive_, he argued. Had he any inkling at all that the Jiggers girl could possibly be alive, it would be a different story, but he knew enough of Greyback to know there was no hope in that regard. He only hoped that the child had succumbed to the poison as Bellatrix had claimed, and had not been present for the werewolf's hellish brutality. He had never wished for the death of a child, but in this instance, it was the far more palatable option.

With a sigh, the man wiped his hand over his face and glumly made his way to the staircase. Dumbledore could bloody well wait until after he had spoken with Hermione. He could tell from her current musings that she was distressed, but was stubbornly planning to complete her brewing for the infirmary. He was not about to let her slice off a finger or burn off her eyebrows – or Merlin forbid, accidently poison an unsuspecting student – because she was distracted.

Upon striding through the blissfully empty infirmary, he gave a stiff nod to Poppy who had poked her head out of her office at the sound of someone entering her domain. He could see her gaze narrow in scrutiny of his person, and let out an aggravated sigh. "I am perfectly fine, woman. Go back to counting bandages or whatever it is you do with your Saturday nights."

The matron nurse sniffed grumpily and folded her arms. "What happened to her?"

"Nothing that concerns you," he muttered.

"Did you do something?" she questioned stiffly.

"No," the wizard growled. "But I will deal with it regardless."

"See to it you do," she snapped before slamming her office door shut.

Severus raised one eyebrow in surprise at her uncharacteristic display of tantrum, but continued down the rear hallway to the brewing lab. The door was ajar, and he could hear garbled mutterings and sniffling from behind it. Cautiously, he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

He was somewhat surprised when the girl gave no indication of having heard him as she angrily banged cupboard doors in her quest to find everything she needed. Not wishing to startle her any more than necessary, he cleared his throat. "Hermione."

The witch briefly froze in place, and then slowly turned around after wiping at her eyes. "Severus? What are you… I thought you were with the Headmaster?"

Exhaling loudly, he stepped farther into the room. "The world will not go to hell at any greater rate if he is not immediately informed. He can wait."

"Oh." Hermione ducked her head and awkwardly rubbed her shoulder. "Did you need something? Are you injured at all? Madam Pomfrey is in her office if –"

"I didn't come to seek out Poppy," he interrupted. "I am in no need of medical attention, I promise you. I only wished to see whether or not you were alright after your confrontation with Potter."

Her eyes widened in slight surprise, and he could see the tears forming within them. She sucked in a deep breath. "I didn't tell him anything beyond the cover story that –"

"I'm not the least bit concerned with how you handled the situation upstairs," Snape clarified gently. "I am concerned, however, with how you are handling the fall out."

The girl frowned and looked down at her hands. "I'm fine."

"Granger," he groaned. "You are not fine. If you were as unaffected as you try to claim, I would not have half the respect for you that I presently do."

Her lower lip trembled at his admission, and she eventually risked a glance up at him. "Harry said… he…"

The man nodded and moved around the edge of the table. "I know what he said. I didn't silence the connection until a few minutes ago."

"How could he… how could he say that?" Hermione whispered. "After everything we've been through…"

Severus leaned against the work table and gently guided her to stand in front of him. Swallowing uncomfortably, he clasped both of her hands in his own. "You recall what I told you when Weasley was the one shouting out of his arse?"

She huffed and glared at the wall. "That I should be patient with him and wait for him to forgive me?"

"Not what I intended," he murmured. "I meant the part about teenaged boys being idiotic little shits who cannot always keep their tempers in check. Potter especially has never exhibited any control over his emotions, and puberty appears to have done nothing to improve on that."

The girl snorted sadly as she thought of all of the angry outbursts she had seen from Harry in the past two years.

"Potter no doubt thought he would be lauded as your personal hero after he came to your rescue," the professor theorized, "but took a massive blow to his savior complex upon discovering that you were not only not in danger, but were perfectly amenable to spending alone time with Draco. He likely felt hurt and betrayed by your dalliance with his sworn enemy, and he lashed out."

"I know," she whimpered, pulling her hands out of his to cover her face. "I just… didn't expect it to hurt so much. He wasn't supposed to find out… about anything. It was bad enough that he knew when he did care about me, but now that he hates me…"

Snape blew out a slow breath and parted his legs so that he could draw her closer to him. As she leaned her head against his shoulder, he slipped one arm about her waist. Her body was rigid in his grasp, and he could tell that she was attempting to restrain herself. "Hermione… I haven't melted yet, so you need not hold back on my account."

The girl gave a short, sniffling laugh and fully sank into him, turning her face against his neck. As she finally allowed her tears to fall, he tightened his hold on her and moved his other hand to cradle the back of her head.

"I am sorry," he exclaimed after a minute of listening to her quiet sobs.

"S'not your fault," Hermione replied, wiping her eyes without pulling away from him.

"For the record… I doubt he hates you any more than Weasley does."

"He's so angry."

"He'll likely calm down… eventually."

"We don't have time for eventually."

Severus sighed deeply. "If he has even half of his mother's intellect, he'll realize how important you are. He does have his father's arrogance, though, so I doubt he will be as sheepish as he ought to be. And he'll likely require an admission of guilt from you."

"Well, I am fucking his perceived enemy," she growled.

He grimaced upon hearing her comment and fisted one hand in her robes. "As much as I would love to let Potter flounder about until he comes to the realization that you haven't done anything wrong, you are correct in that we don't have the time for that. If we expect him to succeed against the Dark Lord… we will both have to swallow our pride. When it's all over, if he hasn't earned your forgiveness… by all means, tear the little arsehole a new arsehole and walk away. Until then, though…"

Hermione nodded once before slipping her arms around his torso. "At least Ron didn't blow up on me, too. I'm rather surprised he didn't."

The wizard gave a soft snort of agreement. "You know the world has gone mad when Ronald Weasley is the voice of reason."

Laughing wearily, she squeezed him tighter. After a few minutes, she blinked back her few remaining tears and pulled back to look up at him. "You know, if she had half the intellect that you give her credit for, she would never have stopped being your friend."

His dark eyes locked on to hers, and several seconds passed in silence as he tried to figure out how best to respond.

"I… I didn't mean any offense." Hermione dropped her gaze to his chest and attempted to step backwards.

Realizing that she had taken his silence for condemnation, Severus strengthened his hold on her waist and tipped up her chin. Tracing the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, he leaned forward and quirked his lips up in a small smile. "None was taken."

The witch drew in a quick breath of air, and her eyelids fluttered shut as his lips descended upon hers. Eagerly returning the kiss, she replaced one arm around his waist but slipped the other behind his neck. The kiss was noticeably different than the one they had shared in the library – softer, yet more demanding, almost desperate, and salty with her tears. Pulling herself into him as tightly as possible, she felt safe enveloped in his warm grasp. Nothing felt wrong when she was there; she was cared for and protected.

As Severus had claimed the morning prior, it was just the two of them. There was no Harry yelling at her, or Ron staring at her in shock, or Draco falling to pieces. There was no Dumbledore. There was no Voldemort. In the moment, there was just Severus and Hermione, and she wished beyond anything that that moment could last indefinitely.

"Mmmgods," he groaned several minutes later. "We have to stop."

She made a noise of disappointment while placing a feather light kiss against the corner of his mouth. "I don't want to."

"Neither do I, darling, but we have to." He stroked the side of her face and shook his head. "If we go much farther, we might not be able to turn back."

"But it's already been… erm…"

"Two days?" Snape supplied with a crooked grin.

"Really? That's all?" Hermione frowned and then shook her head. "It seems like so much longer."

"It's been a long night," he muttered, rubbing a knuckle against his forehead. "And it unfortunately has not yet expired."

"Oh, right." The witch sighed once more and begrudgingly pulled out of his embrace. "I forgot you still have to talk to Dumbledore. He probably wouldn't appreciate it if you chose to sleep with me instead of meeting with him."

"While _I_ think the idea has merit, I do not think he would appreciate it, no." Severus stood to his full height. "Nor would Poppy when you consider the locale."

Her cheeks flushed upon realizing that she had been fully prepared to have sex in the infirmary laboratory. "Oh, gods. That would have been positively mortifying. I would never be able to look her in the eye again."

He snorted in agreement and then began to make his way to the door. Pausing with his hand on the knob, he turned back to look at her. "Hermione, if you would rather call it a night, the brewing will wait until tomorrow. Poppy will understand, and it isn't worth the risk if you are compromised."

Hermione nodded in understanding and glanced about the space. "I think I'll just work on the Fever Reducer. It doesn't take very long, and I don't think I'll mess that up."

"Alright. Good night, then."

"Severus?" When he raised an eyebrow in response, she leaned against the work table. "When you've finished with Dumbledore, could you let me know?"

The man eyed her in surprise, but eventually nodded.

"Oh, and you should probably let Poppy know you're alright. I think she was worried you might be injured."

"I have already," Snape replied before dipping his head in a parting gesture. As she settled into her task, he closed the door behind him and made his way back down the hallway. He paused, however, upon reaching the threshold of the private room he occupied whenever he was hauled in for treatment. Usually, the room appeared entirely vacant with cupboards and drawers warded shut. Tonight, however, he could see that a dozen potions were lined up on the counter, including the After-Cruciatus treatment, and it was obvious that the room had been freshly sanitized.

He cursed under his breath upon realizing he had been a bit harsh with the woman who had clearly spent a great deal of time preparing to save his life yet again. _That's what she had spent her Saturday night doing, you imbecile._

Solemnly, he strode across the infirmary and knocked firmly on the office door. When it was pulled open, he shifted somewhat uncomfortably.

"Is she alright?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Relatively speaking, yes." Severus cleared his throat. "Poppy, I… I wanted to apologize for my shortness earlier. I realize you were just concerned, and I should not have taken out my frustrations on you."

The witch smiled hesitantly. "My, my… Severus Snape apologizing? The world has gone mad."

"It seems I've been doing that quite a lot recently," he mumbled.

She gave a soft chuckle. "Perhaps there might be something wrong with you after all."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I assure you I am perfectly fine. I did not suffer any of the Dark Lord's attentions this evening."

"Good." Poppy touched his cheek briefly and then patted his shoulder. "Get some sleep tonight, Severus. You've more than earned it, and frankly, you need it. I'm saying that as a medical professional, mind you."

Snape sighed deeply as he stepped away. "I'll see what I can manage."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Dumbledore rose shakily from his desk. "Severus? You were in the infirmary. Are you –"

"Uninjured," the spy commented with a wave of his hand. Without being asked, he set up the Pensieve on the desk and began withdrawing his memory of the evening at Malfoy Manor.

The Headmaster eyed him quizzically while sinking back into his chair. "Did Poppy require a consult?"

"Not exactly," Snape replied. When he had finished extracting the silvery thread, he slowly ambled away from the desk. "Miss Granger needed advice, and as I did not glean anything time sensitive, I thought it best to deal with her situation first. She kept an eye on Draco while I called upon the Dark Lord, and the idiot Potter discovered them on that blasted map of his."

"Oh?"

"Weasley surprisingly kept his head, but of course, Potter let his hurt feelings lead the way." He shook his head in disgust. "He all but called her a treacherous whore, denounced their friendship, and wished Draco dead."

"I see." Dumbledore frowned and steepled his fingers. "And the advice you gave her?"

"Never fear, Albus – Miss Granger is not so easily discouraged from friendship with Potter as he is with her. She agreed to swallow her injured feelings and do what she can to crawl back into his good graces. I shall speak with Draco tomorrow to minimize whatever tension I can between them from his end, but perhaps you might deign yourself to do the same with our blessed savior?"

The Headmaster sighed at his bitter tone, but gave a small nod. "Of course. Thank you, Severus. I know I can always count on you to do what is best. Now, I shall examine what you've brought me."

Severus nodded impassively, but turned his back as soon as his employer was submerged in the bowl. He walked over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel. His chest felt somewhat constricted at having made so little of Hermione's anguish, but it would not do to share any more than necessary with Dumbledore. He had not forgotten how she had looked at him after learning that the elder wizard had repeatedly entered her mind without her knowledge. As such, he would not willingly violate her privacy, especially when he knew that she was nothing more than a pawn in the Headmaster's estimation.

"That was almost artful, my boy," Dumbledore commented upon exiting the Pensieve several minutes later.

The Slytherin turned around with his brow raised, but waited silently while his employer shifted in the chair.

"I do not see how it could have been handled any better, though I fear you may have made an even greater enemy of Madam Lestrange."

"That was inevitable," Snape sighed. "Every moment that I retain the ability to breathe, I make a greater enemy of the psychotic bitch."

"As long as you proceed with caution."

He snorted under his breath before hesitantly approaching the desk. "The Jiggers girl, Albus? You didn't tell me there was anyone missing."

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh. "It was not for certain at the outset. The Aurors checked with the few family members left and combed the woods. When there was no sign of Silas's granddaughter, we held no hope of locating her. I chose not to pull you in because I could not risk your position on a lost cause. I know you would have done whatever you could to find the child."

Severus balled his hands into fists when he felt them beginning to shake. "How old was she?"

"That will not help –"

"How old?!" he snapped.

Albus pinched his lips together and studied him for a moment. "Not quite seven."

_Fucking… fuck._ The spy ran his hands through his hair and then delivered a hearty kick to the nearby armchair. "Fuck!"

"Severus… you know the poison would have –"

"I know!" He blew out a long breath and forced his emotions back under his shields. There would be plenty of time later to reflect on how he had once sought to belong with people who were monstrous enough to slaughter an entire family and then use a six-year-old child for poisoning practice.

"Severus."

"What?"

"I think it would be best if you were to have a seat."

Recognizing that the suggestion was more of a command, Snape righted the chair he had kicked and then sank onto it. He grew uncomfortable with the silence and crossed one leg over the other. "The Dark Lord is allowing Draco another chance to dispatch of you."

"So I saw," Dumbledore replied before taking a moment for consideration. "You and I both agreed that Riddle does not expect the boy to succeed in murdering me, yet it does appear as though he does wish me dead as soon as possible."

"So it would seem."

"He has assigned you to provide Draco with guidance in the task."

"Yes."

"Once the boy fails, then, it would be natural to assume Voldemort would look to you to succeed in his stead."

Snape immediately stiffened and then closed his eyes. _Of course it would be. Of course it fucking would be._

"Severus?" The Headmaster tilted his head. "Would I be incorrect in assuming Lord Voldemort expects you to see to my demise?"

"No," he ground out while shifting his gaze to the wall, "you would not be."

Albus rubbed his upper lip thoughtfully. "Riddle is confident, then. He must believe he does not require a spy within Hogwarts for much longer… that once I am gone, there is nothing to fear from Hogwarts. I have you to thank for that, I presume."

"Apart from Lupin, he does not know that any of the staff swear allegiance to the Order."

"I greatly appreciate that, Severus."

The Slytherin gave a brief nod before frowning in contemplation. When another minute had passed in tense silence, he cleared his throat. "I have absolutely no inclination to kill you, if that is a concern of yours."

"It is a concern of mine, but undoubtedly not how you expect," Dumbledore replied, placing his hands in his lap. "If you refuse to kill me, Severus, the Dark Lord will take it as a blatant sign of your treachery."

"If he expects me to kill you, he has no need for a spy, which means that I would be of no use to the Order in his ranks. I would be of better use standing in opposition to the Dark Lord, openly helping the Order!"

The Headmaster shook his head. "On the contrary, you would be of greatest use to the Order if your position within Voldemort's Inner Circle were cemented. When you kill me, he will be fully assured of your loyalty."

"As will everyone else!" Snape snarled, pushing out of his chair. "I would gain the Dark Lord's trust, but lose the Order's! How the fuck will that help anyone beyond the Dark Lord? How the fuck am I to protect Potter if I am nothing more than a murderous Death Eater?"

"Severus, do try to be rational."

"Rational!? You want me to murder you, and _I'm_ the one being irrational?"

"It would NOT be murder!" Dumbledore shouted, rising to his feet.

The younger wizard visibly scoffed. "Oh, _do_ explain that, would you?"

"You know very well, Severus, that my time is limited. I fear that I may not even have the year left that you predicted. My health is failing rapidly – you personally know the concentration of Angel's Trumpet I received, and have seen the length of time it has taken for me to partially recover. You said yourself that the curse seeping through my veins will kill me in a most humiliating and painful way. By providing me a swift end, you would spare me that awful suffering. It would not be murder; you would merely be helping an old man find the exit more efficiently."

Severus shook his head angrily. "Then why not allow Malfoy to be the one to escort you out of this world? He would secure a place in the Inner Circle, save his mother's life, and I have no doubt that his gratitude would still rest with –"

"I do not have faith enough in the skills the boy has in Occlumency, given that his aunt was likely the one to train him," Dumbledore interrupted. "Because of that, he cannot know that his actions would be an act of mercy. It would have to be an act of murder, and I cannot allow his soul to be so cruelly damaged on my behalf."

"And my soul, Albus?" he whispered. "You could allow that of mine?"

The Headmaster let out a deep sigh and shook his head. "You are the only one who can know whether or not your soul will be harmed, Severus, because you are the only one who can know what will be in your heart when you cast that Killing Curse."

"The Killing Curse?" Snape repeated as all color drained from his face.

"There can be no doubt – of my demise, or of your embracing the Dark Arts," the elder wizard explained gently. "And, on a more selfish note, I would prefer the immediate, painless death it provides."

"Albus, if I kill you, I will be just as hated as the Dark Lord. They will hunt me down most assuredly, and if by some miracle, they do not slaughter me on sight, they will see me in Azkaban to receive the Dementor's Kiss. You would not only condemn me to die, but you would condemn Miss Granger to die as well!"

Having grown somewhat shaky, Dumbledore reclaimed his seat. "Miss Granger fully understands that there are sacrifices in war."

"Sacrifices!" Severus spat. "I have spent the last six months convincing her that she need not resign herself to Death, and now I find out that that is exactly what you expect of us!"

"I'm surprised, Severus. It is not like you to go out of your way to make promises that you cannot keep."

A dark scowl appeared on his face. "I had every intention of keeping that promise!"

"Then she can hardly blame you, can she? I can assure you, Severus, that Hermione Granger has considered her death to be a likely outcome of this war for years now, and yet she has never backed down from what she considers her responsibilities. She will understand."

"You are trading your painful, suffering demise for hers! She is seventeen years old, Albus! She should have an entire life ahead of her!"

"As I recall, you were the one who put her in this particular position –"

"I DIDN'T have a CHOICE!" the man hissed. "If there was _anything_ else I could have done, I would have! You know that!"

Dumbledore took in a slow breath and dipped his head. "Then you ought to understand my position, Severus. If I felt there were any better options, I would never consider this. I realize your concern, but I do not believe that what I am suggesting will put Miss Granger at any greater risk than she would be in if you were to pull away from Voldemort. You know the Death Eaters would purposely hunt her down even if they could not reach you, prolonging her suffering until you feel guilty enough to kill yourself just to end her pain. You are not so naïve as to think that Voldemort's forces would not respond to your treachery with greater force than the Order would. The Order, however, will not make her an explicit target."

_Fucking hell._ Snape groaned loudly and sank back into the armchair. Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands.

"Severus, this decision is far greater than you, or myself, or Miss Granger." The Headmaster sighed and leaned against his armrest. "Voldemort needs to be assured of your loyalty and worth when there is no need for a spy in the halls of Hogwarts. Without you firmly ensconced within the Inner Circle, there is little hope for success on our part. Harry will need the protection that only you can provide, whether or not he knows of its origin."

The younger wizard closed his eyes, but said nothing.

"The Ministry will fall – there is no doubt in my mind – and Hogwarts will follow. When it does fall… I want it to fall into your hands. If you do as I have requested, Voldemort will readily appoint you Headmaster. If you do not, who will he trust enough to put at the helm? Or will he take my seat himself, allowing the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, and Antonin Dolohov to traipse through the corridors at will, seeking enjoyment wherever they so desire?" Dumbledore paused briefly as he pushed himself out of his chair and then forcefully tapped his desk blotter. "I need you behind this desk. You are the only one I can trust to do whatever possible to protect the students and my staff."

He crossed around the end of his desk and rested his hand on the spy's shoulder. "I do not believe that Hermione would wish to place her fate above that of three hundred others. That being said, I do realize the gravity of this decision. Take some time to sleep on it, and let me know what it is you choose. Despite appearances, I know you remain serious in your duty to Lily's son, so I am certain you will not disappoint me. Now, I must bid you good night, my boy. I find myself quite tired."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

Shivering slightly, Hermione wrapped her arms around her waist and stumbled almost blindly through the empty corridors. After finishing up the batch of Fever Reducer, she had left the infirmary with a promise to Poppy to get a full night of sleep. Upon reaching the Fat Lady's Portrait, however, she just could not bring herself to enter the common room for fear of running into Harry. Despite feeling much better after Severus's pep talk – and snog – she was definitely not in a steady enough place to face any further accusations, especially not with an audience.

She had stood outside of the Tower for what seemed like ages before turning around and deciding to wander the hallways. More than likely, she was going to keep walking about until either the Aurors escorted her back to the common room, or Severus finally contacted her. Hours had passed since he left her to meet with Dumbledore, and she had yet to hear from him.

At first, Hermione had solely wanted to check in with him before going to bed. After their little interlude in the brewing lab, however, she had started to think about asking him to meet her in the Room of Requirement for a more extensive continuation. As more time passed, though, something was beginning to gnaw at her. It was possible that it was just more anxiety about her fight with Harry, but she really needed to hear from him. She knew she could just send him a mental patronus, but a part of her was concerned that he might need complete concentration. She did not want to bother him unnecessarily.

The sound of giggling drew her attention back to her surroundings. Deciding she could at least perform her duties as a prefect while moping about, the witch quickened her step. As soon as she popped around the corner, however, she came to an abrupt stop and stared almost incredulously at Remus as he leaned into a pink-haired witch.

"I'm glad you've stopped ignoring me," Tonks murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Remus sighed as he stroked his finger along her jaw. "I hope you realize that you deserve better than me."

Hermione bit down on her lip as she watched their tender exchange. A knot formed in her stomach, and she found herself thinking of her time with Severus in the brewing lab as well as the library the morning prior. Rubbing a hand over her eyes, she made to silently turn away, but tripped over a suit of armor that had suddenly appeared behind her.

An audible curse left her mouth as she hit the floor, and the echoes of the poltergeist's maniacal laughter echoed off the stone walls.

"Peeves!" Remus growled, pushing away from Tonks. "Damn it!"

"Girly-whirly is spying! Spying on Woofy-Wolfie slobbering over his purple tart! Hahahaha!"

Tonks chuckled quietly as her wizard shouted after the disappearing poltergeist. Clearing her throat, she moved to investigate the fallen armor. "Hermione, is that you?"

The girl let out a deep sigh as she pushed herself onto her knees. "Yes."

"Are you alright?" Lupin asked.

"Just a few bruises, I think." She winced while allowing the Auror to assist her to her feet. "And I wasn't spying. I was just walking, and I didn't want to intrude so I turned around, but stupid Peeves –"

"It's alright, love," Tonks giggled, patting the girl's shoulder. "I believe you."

"It's rather late," the man stated. "What are you doing out on your own?"

Hermione rubbed her aching wrist. "Just finishing up my rounds."

The older witch cocked her head. "I didn't see your name on the schedule for tonight. Weren't you just on duty last night?"

_Crud_. She shook her head. "I was, and no, I'm not, erm, scheduled for rounds tonight. Madam Pomfrey dismissed me a little early, though, so I just thought I could do an extra set. I didn't really want to sit in the common room, and I'm too wired to sleep."

"Is something wrong?"

A small voice in her head told her to lie and say that she was fine, but with everything that happened with Draco, and Harry, and Severus, and now Peeves, Hermione doubted she could make it very convincing. Instead, she gave them half a smile and then looked down at her hands. "You could say that."

"Boy troubles?" Tonks asked with a sly grin.

The girl glanced at Remus, who suddenly looked incredibly uncomfortable, before letting out a deep sigh. "In a manner of speaking."

The Defense Instructor recognized that she was hesitant to say anything while in the corridor. He gestured toward his office door. "If you'd like to talk…"

"Oh, I don't… I didn't mean to bother you at all."

"No bother, really," the Auror replied. "I only have a half hour or so before I'm officially on duty. You want some tea?"

After she nodded, the trio entered the office and settled in with a cup of tea delivered swiftly by one of the kitchen elves. A few awkward minutes passed while Hermione fought with herself about what she could tell them. Finally, since she knew they both believed her to be sleeping with Draco, she decided she could safely explain what had occurred with Harry.

Remus cleared his throat before she could answer. "Hermione, forgive me, but did Malfoy hurt you?"

Tonks stiffened at the question and looked in concern to Hermione, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. "No. Draco didn't do anything to me."

"But this is about him? Did –"

The pink-haired witch threw her hand back against his shoulder. "Would you just let her speak?"

"Sorry."

The girl cast a grateful look at Tonks while gripping her tea cup with both hands. "It has to do with Draco, yes, but he didn't do anything wrong. The problem is… Harry knows now. Harry and Ron both know."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "You told them?"

"No. No, I didn't _tell_ them. They found out! They saw that we were together on that stupid map, and they thought I was in trouble. I wasn't, and we weren't doing anything inappropriate, sir, I swear. We were just talking, and… and I hugged him, but that was it. But Harry… he attacked Draco, and said horrible things to me."

Tonks grimaced and leaned forward. "Is Draco uninjured?"

"Yes, I think so." She nodded and stared down at her cup. "I shielded him from the hex and disarmed Harry before he could cast again, and then sent him away so he wouldn't retaliate."

"You didn't get a staff member?"

"To do what?" Hermione threw up her hands and shook her head. "No one was there, and if I would have taken the time to do that, who would believe that Harry Potter tried to hex an unarmed student in the back after being told that there was no reason to do so, and that anything Draco had done would have been in self-defense? Would you have?"

Lupin winced in response.

"The only one who would believe it would have been Professor Snape, and I would imagine he was rather busy at the time."

"What do you mean?"

_Seriously_? The young witch stared at him in disbelief. "Dumbledore just came back from the dead, didn't he? I would assume that _someone_ might be a bit upset about that."

"Oh."

Hermione watched the two Order members exchange concerned glances. Feeling guilty that she may have worried them unnecessarily and possibly encouraged one or both of them to seek out Severus later, she quickly spoke up. "He's alright, you know. I was in the Hospital Wing when he came in to tell Madam Pomfrey that he would not need her services tonight. I think he had just returned. He had on his travelling cloak."

Remus nodded while Tonks gave a relieved sigh. "Good."

A brief smile toyed at her lips upon realizing that there were others who cared about Severus's well-being, but she hid it before it could be detected. Setting her virtually untouched tea on the edge of the desk, she crossed her arms. "About Harry… I tried to tell him that he was my priority, and that I wasn't letting anyone use me to hurt him. Ron believed me, but I don't think Harry did. He was so angry that I had kept it from him, but I knew this is how he would react! I knew he would go ballistic! And now I'm worried that he won't keep it to himself."

"Did you tell him to keep it private?"

She scoffed loudly and stood up from her chair to pace. "I tried to, but between telling me that we're no longer friends and implying that he wouldn't care if Draco were killed, I really don't think it sank in."

Honest tears began to fall, and she stopped mid-stride to cover her face.

"Hermione?" Tonks ventured out of her seat and placed a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder.

"I haven't been able to speak to him since he left, and I just want to know he's alright," she whispered. "I feel like something's wrong."

"Draco?"

"Y-yes. I meant Draco." Hermione nodded, though she cursed herself for letting her thoughts of Severus leak out. Recovering, she wiped the tears from her eyes. "He was worried about his mother – that's why I was with him, actually – and now, if this gets out…"

Tonks squeezed the girl's arm in sympathy and then glanced over her shoulder. "Remus?"

The wizard let out a slow breath, but nodded his head. "I will speak to Harry. I am sure he will calm down and come to his senses."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. "I should probably get going."

"As should I," the older witch added. "Good night, Remus. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Lupin blushed lightly as he returned her smile. "Of course. Good night… to both of you."

Tonks held open the door for Hermione and then stepped out into the hallway. When the girl started making her way in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, the Auror cleared her throat and reached out her hand. "It's not quite curfew yet."

"No," the Gryffindor agreed, raising an eyebrow in question as she took her hand. "Where are we going?"

"As an Auror who has just received report of an attempted assault, I would be remiss in my duties if I did not ensure that the alleged victim was unharmed."

Hermione's eyes widened as she was led down the stairs. "But I can't… if anyone sees –"

"Then we won't let anyone see," Tonks shrugged. She turned around and quickly tapped her wand to the girl's forehead, disillusioning her. "There. No worries."

A smile appeared on the girl's invisible face, and she quickened her step to match the woman's pace. "You didn't have to do this."

"No, I suppose not, but let's say I have a personal interest. He is family, after all. He doesn't trust me enough to let me help him, which isn't surprising, but I am glad that he has you. It isn't easy to go against everything you've been raised to believe, so I think he ought to have all the support possible."

"So you believe my opinion of him?"

Tonks nodded as they rounded a corner. "The more I consider it, the more I do. Mum's told me how much she adored her baby sister, so I'd like to think that they're not as bad as they've appeared."

"They're not," Hermione blurted. She tightened her grip on the woman's hand and whispered, "I swear to you they're not."

Severus might be mad at her for divulging too much, but she trusted Tonks's declarations about family. The Auror could not be any greater of a risk than Harry. Frankly, she thought it might be best to have someone in addition to herself and Severus who could stand up for Draco and Narcissa when the time came.

She reflected on this for the remainder of their trek down to the dungeons until Tonks pushed her into a disused classroom before heading off to the Slytherin dormitory. Within the matter of a few minutes, she had returned with a sullen Draco in tow.

"Look," he snapped, glaring back at her, "whatever Potter said I did is a lie. He attacked me!"

"She knows."

The boy whipped his head around in confusion until Tonks removed the Disillusionment charm. "Wha – Granger? What are –"

"It's okay, Draco," Hermione stated pointedly as she walked up to him. "She knows… about _us_."

He snapped his gaze back to his cousin. "You said you needed to interview me about an accusation against me!"

Tonks grinned smugly and leaned against the wall. "I didn't think it the best idea to announce to Slytherin House that I was there to fetch you so that your girlfriend could see whether or not you were alright. I also didn't think they would believe that I would investigate an assault against you."

Malfoy drew in a sharp breath but nodded in acceptance. Turning back to face Hermione and remaining mindful of their audience, he cleared his throat. "I'm fine… thanks to you. And… and you? Are you alright? Potter and Weasley didn't hurt you, did they?"

The young witch grimaced but shook her head. It took great effort not to startle when he took her hands in his and led her farther into the room. "I'm alright, Draco. I swear. Harry just yelled and said horrible things, but he didn't hit me or anything. I did slap _him_, though."

"You did?" His eyes lit up in honest astonishment. "Shit. I _know_ that must have hurt."

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes. "Shut it."

"Why don't you shut it for me?" he smirked, pulling her just hard enough that she stumbled into his chest. When she squawked in response to the action, he gave her a wink.

"Draco!" she gasped, peering over his shoulder. "You're going to get us in trouble again."

"Just keep it within policy," the Auror instructed with a grin while she determinedly stared at the wall.

Hermione blushed at the comment before whispering. "I'm sorry. I just… had to explain about Harry, and she suggested this, and I couldn't come up with an excuse, so I just went with it. Sorry."

Draco let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulder as sorrow again returned to his eyes. "It's fine. Better this than an interrogation, I guess. I don't think I could deal with that tonight."

"I know." She ducked her head briefly before deciding to slip her arms around his neck and rest her head against his shoulder. He tensed up immediately, but eventually wrapped his arms about her waist. "I am glad that you're okay, and that your mum is, too."

He grunted uncomfortably. "I won't be after Snape finds out I've taken liberties with you again."

Hermione snickered and pressed her forehead against his chin. "Let me deal with him. He'll understand."

"Fine." The boy cleared his throat and pulled away from her. "You should probably go."

With a nod, she stepped around him and then walked backwards to the door. "Good night, Draco."

"Good night, Hermione."

Tonks reapplied the Disillusionment charm before looking back at her cousin. "You can make it back to your common room alright?"

"Yes," he snapped.

"Well, good night, then," she murmured, "and take care."

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

_Don't get caught. Don't get caught. Don't get caught._

Concealed under her own Disillusionment charm, Hermione stole down the staircases as silently as possible. Tonks had escorted her as far as the seventh floor corridor, but instead of heading into her common room, Hermione had again stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She still had received no word from Severus, and it was starting to frighten her. Tonks had thought it would help her to see Draco, but Draco was not the one she wanted to see.

So it was that after waiting several minutes to ensure that she could slip away undetected, the witch began making her way down to Snape's quarters. If he was there and had just forgotten to tell her, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. If he was not, however, she was going to wait for him.

Upon closing the portrait door behind her, Hermione let out a relieved sigh at not having been caught. The emptiness of his rooms did give her some concern, though, as she strode through his bedroom to the secret stairwell down to his office. Holding her breath, she slunk along the edge of the staircase and paused for quite some time to listen at the door. When she heard nothing, she eased open the door and peeked into the office. After finding that unoccupied as well, she glumly made her way back up to his bedroom.

"Severus, where are you?"

With a groan, Hermione removed her concealing charm, kicked off her shoes, and then climbed onto the bed. After sending him positive thoughts, she tugged the pillow close to her chest and closed her eyes. She thought again of him choosing to comfort her before going to Dumbledore, kissing her and holding her to his chest. Draco had held her as well that night, and though it was oddly okay, it was entirely wrong because it was the wrong chest pressed against her, the wrong arms enfolding her, and the wrong hands at her waist.

_Good god – who would have thought that I would seek out Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape for comfort when Harry and Ron upset me? It's like the world's turned upside down._

Blowing out a deep breath, she pushed the thoughts of Draco and Harry out of her mind and returned to more pleasant memories. A smile slowly formed on her face when she reminded herself of the fact that Severus had –whether he realized it or not – referred to her as 'darling.' Only her parents and long-deceased grandmother had ever called her that. It was not a declaration of love, exactly, but it must mean that he at least cared for her.

**XxxxxxxxXxxxxxxxX**

As the rays of sunlight began to reflect off of the ice covering the Black Lake, Severus let out a deep sigh and pressed his head back against the large boulder. He would never be certain as to how long he had remained in the Head's Office after Dumbledore had left, but it had been quite a while. He had sat there, trying to comprehend what had been asked of him, until finally he had become aware of the number of pitying stares he had been receiving from the wall of portraits. When he could stand their whisperings no longer, he had stormed out of the room and had taken to ambling through the dark hallways.

There had been no errant students – though he very well may have been blinded by his own distraction –as it had been after curfew, but he had still felt too crowded. As a result, he had found himself hiking through the snow drifts out to the boulder which Hermione had frequented in moments of distress. The knowledge of that had prompted him to check in with her, but upon finding her asleep, he had decided not to wake her. Instead, he had wrapped his travelling cloak tighter around him and sank down in the snow to think.

Snape shifted to relieve a pain in his hip and groaned at the realization that it was already morning, and he was no closer to a resolution. While he understood Dumbledore's argument, he was still hesitant to risk Hermione's safety. If he were to refuse, there was no doubt in his mind that the Dark Lord would spare no effort to find, torture, and murder the two of them. The Dark Lord had ordered their binding, and as such, would know how to use it to his advantage. He would do everything he could to protect her in that instance, but to do so could limit their contributions to the Order.

_Would I be sacrificing Potter to protect her? Sacrificing the war? If the Dark Lord wins, I cannot keep her safe. He will track me down wherever I run_. The wizard covered his face with his hands. Were he to kill the Headmaster, though, there existed the possibility that he could convince the Dark Lord to issue an order of protection for Hermione. The Order would not knowingly harm her, and neither would the majority of Death Eaters if the Dark Lord were to believe that she could be of use to him. He could continue to help orchestrate the downfall of the Dark Lord by funneling information through Hermione, while claiming that she was providing him with information from the Order.

If they both lived to see the Dark Lord defeated, however, he would still face the consequences for murder. Instead of fleeing the Death Eaters, they would have to flee the Aurors. They would likely have to become fugitives to save her life in either case, but the Aurors would have greater difficulty in tracking him. Hermione was Muggleborn, so they could slip away and disappear into the Muggle world, give up magic, and escape the country.

_We're damned either way_. A shiver rippled through him, and he began to pull out his wand to cast another warming charm, but thought better of it. As the wind whipped his hair into his face, Severus stiffly climbed to his feet. With one last long look at the frozen lake, he slowly made his way back to the castle.

After shaking the snow from his robes in the Entrance Hall, he peered into the Great Hall. It was early enough that the majority of the students had yet to come down for breakfast, and so the tables were relatively unoccupied. The Head Table, as well, was quite sparse with only Professors Vector, Sinistra, and Flitwick in addition to the Headmaster.

When Dumbledore's blue eyes settled onto his face, the Slytherin Head felt his stomach twist. There was a question in the man's gaze, and Severus, not ready yet to answer it, simply dropped his eyes to the stone floor in front of him and ducked back into the Entrance Hall. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he turned toward the staircase and made his way to the first floor.

Two minutes later found him standing in front of a familiar wooden door. Swallowing heavily, he raised his hand to knock.

"Just a moment!" The door opened to reveal the Deputy Headmistress, who visibly startled. "Severus? You knocked? You never wait for permission. My gods, whatever has happened?"

"Minerva." He met her eyes and then shifted in discomfort. "There is something I think you should know."


End file.
